Bleed Red
by Ripley'sCaress
Summary: Sometimes it's not the light in a person you fall in love with but the dark. Sometimes its not the optimist you need, but another pessimist to walk beside you and know that life really is as bad as you think. HG/DM
1. So It Begins

I pulled into my driveway at a quarter 'til dawn with the sky still dark and star-filled. I left the mustang in the driveway, too tired to mess with the garage. It was May but it felt like April. Spring in Scotland was usually a two-day event between the end of winter and the beginning of summer. One day you were freezing your ass off and the next it'd be eighty plus. But this year it had been spring, a wet gentle spring.

Except for the high number of reports I went through, it had been a typical night. Just the usual evidence of the on-going investigation on the werewolf slaughters. I'd been neck-deep in Aurors and therapists most of the night. If I heard, 'How does that make you feel, Dean, (or, Evelyn, or whatever) one more time tonight, I'd scream.

I was a forensic pathologist. I dealt with the dead, not the living and all their emotional baggage.

The air was cool enough to make me shiver as I walked down the sidewalk to my door. I could hear the phone ringing as I fumbled the key into the lock. I hit the door with my shoulder because no one ever calls just before dawn unless it's important. For me that usually meant the Auror Department, which meant another murder scene. I kicked the door closed and ran for the phone in the kitchen. My answering machine had clicked on. Rosie and my laughing voice died on the machine and Gawain Robard's voice came on. He was the Head Auror and a complete prat, but I respected him nonetheless.

"Hermione, its Gawain. If you're there, pick up." Silence.

I was running full out and skidded on my high heels, grabbing the receiver as I slid into the wall and nearly dropped the phone. I yelled into the receiver as I juggled the phone, "Robard, Robard, it's me! I'm here!"

Gawain was chuckling softly when I could finally hear him.

"Glad I could amuse you. What is it?" I asked.

"There's another murder." He said quietly.

It was my turn for silence. I'd known there would be another murder. It was after all a full moon tonight. Our 'serial killer' always acted according to the phases of the moon. Every fourteen kills was committed thirty days after the last. So why was I so stunned to hear that that theory had come true? Oh, well that was simple. I didn't want to see another dead body reduced to so much meat. But life isn't fair and it looked like I'd be seeing yet another body before I could call it a day.

"Is it as bad as the last one?" I asked, stumbling to the couch as I tried to take off my high heels. If I had to go to a murder site tonight, I was so not going to wear heels.

I heard Gawain take a deep breath and then he said, "It's not as gruesome, but it is worse."

The front door opened. I heard the sound of little feet running down the hallway and had a couple seconds to rearrange my face. It wasn't as hard as it sounded. I have had years of practice schooling my face around Rose.

The little red head ran into the common room at full speed. She jumped onto the couch and wrapped her dainty arms around my neck.

"Hi, mum." Rose said.

I put a hand around her waist, kissing the top of her forehead. "Hi, sweetheart." I fumbled the phone to my other ear. "Mr Robard, I'll see you there."

Gawain gave me the address and we both hung up.

Rose stared up at me with her big brown eyes; that innocent expression that only children have flew across her face. I sat her down on the couch and stood up. Ron would come in any minute. It had been his turn to pick her up from pre-school.

As if he could hear my thoughts, he came strutting down the hallway. He was wearing his ministry uniform, the badge gleaming bright against the black of his cloak. His blue eyes glared at me.

Rose was rustling in her backpack. She'd been rambling on about wanting to show me something. I had heard bits and pieces of what she had said, but all my attentions were turned towards my husband, soon to be ex-husband. That is, if he'd ever sign the papers.

I loved Ron, I really did, but when Rose was born, he had thought I was neglecting him. We had a child, our attentions were supposed to be divided. I couldn't spend twenty-four hours, seven days a week, making sure my husband's needs were met. A child needs those hours; Ron didn't see it that way. So instead of talking through our problems, Ron decided to find that attention elsewhere, as in with some whore from a pub.

"Mum, look at what I made." Rose whined from the couch.

I looked away from Ron and put a smile on my face. Rose was holding up a picture. There was a wolf howling at the full moon and what looked like two stick figures. Rose was an amazing artist but drawing people was never her forte. All her work was hanging up on the refrigerator, covering it from top to bottom.

I sat on the edge of the couch and she kneeled beside me, bouncing with excitement.

"This one is you," She pointed to the taller figure, "This one is me," Her dainty finger brushed across the shorter figure, "and this one is our new pet." Her fingers landed on the wolf.

I laughed. "Oh, honey, it's beautiful, but I don't think we can have a wolf as our pet."

Rose pouted and shook her head. "Yes, we can. He told me we could keep him."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She gave an exasperated sigh and pointed at the wolf. "He did. He said once he found us, he'd come home with us."

I glanced up at Ron. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. From the look on his face, he didn't know what she meant either. It's been five years since Rose was born, I'd thought I would have some insight into how her mind worked by now. I guess I was wrong.

"How did he tell you this, sweetheart?"

"He told me in my head." She put the picture back in her backpack. "I really wanted a puppy but if we do get a pet, he'll be just fine."

I shook my head. "Go get your overnight bag from your bedroom, we have to leave soon."

Her eyes went wide. "I'm staying at Aunt Ginny's tonight?"

I nodded.

A grin spread across her face and she ran down the hall saying something about telling James about her new pet. She'd wanted a pet for over a year now. All kids did.

Ginny had caved when James asked for one and bought him a golden retriever. He'd named it Remus. For about a month he loved that dog, and then he got tired of him and asked for something else. Now Ginny was completely responsible for him. It was easier for her seeing as she was a stay-at-home mom, but I had a job and I couldn't take care of a pet. It was hard enough taking care of a five year old.

I walked down the hall to my bedroom. Ron followed me silently like I knew he would. He wouldn't leave until I made him.

"You knew about the murder, didn't you?" I asked him as I went to my dresser. I started digging through to find a different pair of trousers. I was wearing my black pin-striped trousers with its matching suit jacket and a pale lavender silk blouse underneath. The trousers were new. I didn't want them to get dirty if I could help it.

"Yeah, I did." Ron said behind me.

I turned to glare at him. "Why didn't you take Rose to Ginny's house then?"

He shrugged and ran a hand through his red hair like it didn't matter. "I didn't think you would go."

My shoulders were beginning to tighten. It doesn't usually take much to piss me off, he was working at it. The tightness in my shoulders spilled up my neck and came out my mouth. "Seeing as it is my job, I am obligated to go. If that's all you wanted, you can leave."

He shot me a dark look.

I ignored that dark look, and tried my best to pretend he wasn't there. I actually turned my back on him. It worked for a while, and then I felt him behind me. I turned in time to keep his outstretched hand from touching me.

"'Mione." He said.

"Ron, don't."

"Don't what?" He asked.

I closed my eyes so I couldn't see him. That always made it easier to turn away. "Don't try to talk to me right now. Don't try to make me understand why you did what you did. Neither of us has time for it. It's over, so just go."

"How can you say that?" He said, and his voice was closer. He moved so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. "You know I love you."

I stepped away from him, eyes still closed, and nearly tripped. He grabbed for me and pulled me closer to his body.

I looked up at him, and he was so close, too close. He bent in to close that distance and kiss me. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away from me. I walked over and opened the door, leaning against the doorknob, my legs slightly shaky.

"Get out." I said, looking anywhere but his face.

He hesitated, and then walked past me without another word. I listened to his footsteps fade, the tears that had been burning behind my eyes slid down my cheeks. The front door opened and slammed shut.

The main piece of the body lay on the ground, on its back in the middle of a smooth grassy field. In the morning sun everything looked grey, but there were scuffed and paler places around the field; I think we were standing in the middle of a softball field. The "we" was Harry Potter, Senior Auror, and me.

There were other Aurors over talking to the muggle police, but it was just Harry and I standing in the middle of the scattered body parts. Gawain had been right. This scene was worse, not because of the about of body parts scattering the field, but because it was a child. This was the first minor murdered in this case.

Our serial killer was changing it up a bit. Everyone needs variety.

I fought the urge to huddle in my cloak. It was fifty degrees out here. The light softened around us and I could see the body parts better. It didn't make me like them any better.

"Is the body lying on its back or its buttocks?" I asked.

"You mean because it's bisected at mid-chest and the parts are about ten feet away?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked. He ran his hand through his messy ebony hair.

"I guess not." In my head I thought, _Problems like that are what you think about when you stare down at a dismembered body, because otherwise you want to run screaming, or throw up._ I hadn't thrown up on a body since my first crime scene.

"They can't find the heart," he said, voice as tired as his face. The light was strong enough that I could see that he had bags under his eyes. Neither of us wanted to be here, he just had more going for him in this area than I did.

"Hermione," he said and he moved so I couldn't see the body. "Talk to me."

I blinked at him. "They won't find the heart. I'm just surprised he didn't take any other organs. The last couple of kills he butchered the bodies and cut out all the organs. It's like a cannibal except more barbaric."

"I need you here, working this case, not lost in your head."

"I'm here," I frowned at him.

He shook his head. "I've seen you look at worse than this and be better about it."

"It's a kid, Harry."

He nodded. "Doesn't change the fact that we have to find our killer and send him to Azkaban."

I sighed. "Maybe I'm tired of looking at stuff like this. Aren't you?"

"You don't mean just the case," he said.

I shook my head.

He came up to me and put his arm around my shoulder. "Take it a step at a time, Hermione. You need to stop beating yourself up for things that you can't change. I know that sounds hypocritical coming from 'The Chosen One,' but you know I give good advice, sometimes I even take it." He grinned down at me.

I smiled back in spite of myself, in spite of the body parts that surrounded us.

"You're face just went all serious." Harry said.

Before I could even open my mouth to reply, Head Auror, Gawain Robard, strutted over to us. If someone that big could strut. I'm not saying he's fat- even though he had the start of a beer gut showing under his spiffy black cloak- it was more muscle than anything else. If he wore clothing that complimented his physique, he wouldn't look fat, but when do men rarely care about clothing? If it fit, then it was good enough to buy.

Harry's face broke out into his professional smile almost instantly. I was pretty good at my professional face, but no one I knew could school their face as well as Harry.

"How's it going over here?" Gawain grumbled.

I took in a deep breath and wished I hadn't. There was a faint bitter smell because we were all standing near the end of the body. Death isn't pretty, or neat, or clean; it's all outhouse smells as your body does everything it can do all at once, one last time.

"Fine," I said, and I squatted beside the body on the balls of my feet. I made myself look at the body, really look at it. "The body is different. Not just in age but with efficiency. The last kills, he took his time to slice the right places so there wouldn't be as many cuts. This one was done in a hurry like he didn't have time to enjoy it."

Both men stood over me, looming just because they were both taller than me. It's not that big of a feat, seeing as I'm 5'4".

"You have any idea what's killing these civilians?" Gawain asked.

I shook my head.

"Why are they being killed?"

"Why does any serial killer choose his victim?"

"So you know it is a he?"

I sighed. "Statically speaking, over ninety percent of all serial killers are male. Using _he_ as the pronoun is probably accurate, but, you're right, I don't know that it's a he. Though female serial killers are more likely to use poison. Whoever is killing these victims is sure of his skills, and that he has the strength to get the job done. That level of physical confidence is usually male, rather than female."

Gawain studied my face for a minute. "That's true."

I smiled at him.

"See anything that'll help us?" Someone called behind us.

We all turned around to find a girl with a Ministry official badge pinned to her cloak. She was at least five-ten in her sensible and ugly black lace-up shoes. If she'd been dressed better I might have thought she was a professional model, but she had dieted too much for her bone structure, so she looked starved, and she'd dieted away all her curves so she was built like a man. Her straight black hair was back in a loose ponytail. I never understood why women tried to fit in with the men. In the end they were still seen as a threat or as a sexual object in this line of business.

"Granger, Potter, this is Cassandra Cuffe. She's hot off training." Gawain said.

Harry shook her hand and then I shook it. She had a nice firm grip, but wasn't too intimidating. Most women, hell most men, try to test the strength of newcomers. It wasn't just to see if we could deal with them, but if they were up to the job that we all worked.

"Cuffe, as in Barnabas Cuffe?" I asked her.

She grinned and nodded. "Yup, that's my dad."

"So you must be up to date with the last crime scenes, am I correct?" Harry asked.

She looked at Harry, glanced back at me, and then turned her attention back to him, like she didn't know who was in charge of this case. I wasn't in charge of anything. I was just called in for my opinion. Maybe she didn't know that.

"Yes, I've seen the reports. I haven't talk to any of the witnesses though." She said.

"Isn't that meant for the Auror in charge? To talk to the witnesses?" I asked.

Gawain and Harry exchanged glances. I suddenly had a feeling that I was missing something or at least they weren't telling me something.

"Miss Cuffe will be taking over the case." Gawain said softly.

I glanced at the three of them and laughed at their serious expressions. They had to be joking. The rookie couldn't take over this case. Gawain and I had been working this case for over a year now. We'd both seen the worst of it, both been covered head to toe in dirt and blood. This was our case.

I looked at Gawain. "You can't be serious."

He hung his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Cuffe give us some privacy."

Cuffe gave a little nod and walked back to the group of Aurors and local police. Harry had his hands in his pocket, staring out at the rising sun. Gawain stared at me.

"You can't quit now. We almost have him, Robard." I said desperately.

He shook his head. "I'm too old for this shit, Granger. I've got grandchildren that I've barely spent a day with. It's time to get on with life instead of dwelling in all this death."

I was shaking my head over and over. I looked into his face and tried to read something in it but he had on his cop face. Blank, pleasant, and completely unreadable.

"Did you know about this Harry?" I asked without looking at him.

"Yeah, I'll be promoted next month."

I glanced sideways at him. I had a horrible urge to cry. "This is bullshit."

He nodded. "I know." There was a look in his eyes of a shared knowledge, of knowing that everything was changing too quickly for either of us to comprehend.

I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. "Our killer did this in a hurry. He left too many pieces behind. He'll be back." Always business. If I could concentrate on business, I wouldn't have to think about everyone who's betrayed me one way or another.

Both men seemed to understand my change of subject. We all got down and dirty, letting the EMTs go back to the hospital with their body bag empty. I did my best to ignore Cuffe. It's not that I didn't like her, she seemed like a good kid, but that was it. She was a kid and she was taking over Gawain's job. It just didn't seem right. And anyway, a job this brutal could get a rookie killed. I haven't seen her in the field yet, but I had a feeling our new recruit was all books and no experience.

We'd decided to stake out the place. Just in case our killer made his way back to the site. Harry had gone home for an hour to help Ginny with James. He was at the age where he hated going to school. Maybe that was all children but my Rosie loved pre-school. She was a really intelligent kid, if not a little odd at times, but she was mine and Ron's child, she had to have some odd genetics in her.

All that was left was Cuffe and I. We both sat in my mustang, staring out into the field as the sun rose over the trees that edged the field. Even from here you could see the dew glistening on the recently mowed grass. The only thing that ruined the image of morning bliss was the black pools of blood scattered sporadically by the trees. If you didn't know what it really was, it would look like puddles of mud except for that fact that pale body parts were lying in the middle of the pools, glistening red and raw like pieces of butchered meat. It really wasn't an inviting sight this early in the morning on absolutely no sleep.

I huddled in my cloak, nursing the warm cup of coffee in my hands.

Cuffe turned toward me in her seat, making the leather squeak. We both flinched. She'd been sitting with her back ridged straight with her mouth shut. The silence had been awkward but I was feeling whatever she was about to say was going to make the awkward silence seem like paradise.

She took a deep breath, readying herself. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I really want you to like me. Not only because we'll be working together but because female Aurors are becoming rare and girls have to stick together, right?"

I think it was a rhetorical question but I answered anyway. "Yeah, we do."

The smile that lit up her face was almost worth being stuck here for hours with her. Almost but not quite. Was it wrong to instantly dislike someone just because they ruin the image your life has become? Probably.

"Let's just start over." She said.

I took another sip of coffee and found it empty. "Alright."

We went back into silence.

"Can I say something without you taking it wrong? She asked, and sat on the edge of the seat.

I stopped staring out into the field and looked at her sideways. "Probably not, but say it anyway."

She frowned, putting that little pucker between her eyes. If she didn't stop frowning she'd have lines there before too many years. "I really don't want you to hate me."

I sighed. "What I mean, Cuffe, is anytime someone asks me, 'Can I say something without you taking it wrong,' it usually means it will be something insulting. So say it, but I can't guarantee how I'll take it."

She thought about that for a minute, serious as a small child on the first day of school. "Okay, I guess that was a stupid thing to say, but I want to know the answer enough to be stupid."

"Then ask," I said.

"We had some of the other Aurors that were in WWII come and give lectures. One of them said you'd have been one of the best if you hadn't gotten involved with your husband. He says that women shouldn't be part of the law enforcement because they end up not taking the law as a priority and instead making their home life their priority."

"It was Cormac Mclaggen wasn't it?" I said.

"How did you know?"

"Mclaggen thinks I'm a bitch because I wouldn't date him in sixth year at Hogwarts. He's pulling at broken strings. Whatever he said was a crock of shit because most women become workaholics or quit their job altogether."

"Wasn't he supposed to be on this case?"

I nodded.

"Why didn't he get called in then?"

I shrugged. "Mclaggen is all talk and no walk."

She gave a nervous laugh beside me, which made me glance at her.

"Cuffe, this is a bad case. It's not a hunt for a first-timer."

"I know it's bad one, I've seen the pictures." She said.

"No you don't, not yet." I turned in my seat and faced her. "I want you to sign the case over to Harry, please."

She was angry and didn't try to hide it. "I cant. I'm the girl, and if I back down on this the other Aurors will never trust me again."

"It's not about being a girl, Cuffe, it's about being new and inexperienced."

"I'll have your back, Granger."

"I'm not worried that you'll get me killed."

She frowned again. "Then what are you worried about?"

I looked into that earnest face and said, "I'm worried you'll get yourself killed."

There was no more talk. We stared out into the field with tension rising like fire in the car. We sat there for thirty minutes before she started to fidget in her seat. Stake outs asked for patience. If you didn't have it, you weren't up for it.

She sighed exasperatedly beside me. "I'm going to the gas station down the road. You want anything?"

I glanced at her. "Yeah, can you get some more coffee?"

She stared at me for a moment with a strange expression on her face, then nodded. "Sure."

I watched her walk down the road in her ugly laced-up shoes with a slight satisfaction of being left alone for a little while.

The wind that came from the open window blew my hair out of the ponytail I had wrestled it into. It slapped against my face, going into my mouth and blocking my vision. As I tried to push it back into the ponytail, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I spluttered.

Rose's voice rang out. "Mum where are you? I thought you were taking me to pre-school."

I sighed, letting my unruly hair fall. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, something came up at work. I promise I'll pick you up after you're let out and we'll go get ice cream."

"There's not enough time."

I rubbed my sore neck. "Rosebud, I know I've been working a lot, I'm sorry."

"Not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I saw you die."

My breath stopped. "What are you talking about?"

"Aunt Ginny wants to talk to you."

Ginny's voice came on, strict and scolding. "Don't you dare start apologizing for having to work. I know what it was like. I'll take care of her, don't you worry."

I laughed, pushing my daughter's odd behaviour to the back of my mind and stared up into the sky. I had more pressing problems to deal with right now. "You know me so well."

"You're just predictable. Hold on a second," She said then yelled, "JAMES SIRIUS POTTER GET YOUR LAZY ARSE DOWN HERE!" I could hear him yelling back at her but didn't understand what he'd said. "I'm sorry. He's such a devil child, I swear."

I chuckled again. "All kids hit that stage sooner or later. I hope Rose doesn't. I'm praying she doesn't."

"She will, she just won't be as bad as James." I think she meant that to be comforting. "So how's it going out there?"

I sighed. "It's…going."

"That bad?"

"Not really, just the company isn't very comforting."

"Oh. Harry told me about Cuffe. She a bitch or something?"

I shook my head, then remembered she couldn't see me. "No, she's just," I paused, searching for the right word and finding none. "I don't know, something seems off about her. Maybe it's because she's a newbie I don't know."

"Hey, I'm sorry to leave you like this but James hasn't even gotten out of bed and we have to leave." She screamed for James again.

"It's okay, I understand. Make sure Rose has her homework. I'll feel like such a failure if I forgot to put it in her bag."

"Mmm…huh. You be careful out there." She said, her voice strict. It sounded so much like her mothers.

"As careful as a virgin on her wedding night."

She laughed. "That wasn't comforting, 'Mione."

"I know."

We both said our goodbyes and she hung up.

I shut my window and turned the heater up high. I would have called someone in to take over my shift but I knew the person who would take it over would be Ron and I really didn't want him to throw it in my face later on.

I scanned the field and trees. The shadows were thick in them. It was maybe an hour before the sun shone through. I closed my eyes and pulled my cloak closer around me.

Next thing I knew the sun was shining bright in my face. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and sat up straighter, groaning as my back cracked. The time on the radio said I'd slept for over an hour.

My phone had one message on it. I checked it and it was Harry. He was coming to take over my shift. Great.

I scanned the field and trees before I opened my door. It was starting to become a habit. The morning air blew across my face like a slap in the face. It helped fight the sleep from my limbs.

I felt more than saw something large and dark leap through the air behind me. I swivelled around, putting my left arm out to take whatever blow was to come. My left arm went numb like it had been hit with a baseball bat. I didn't have time to go for my wand in my pocket. It wouldn't work in this kind of close combat anyway.

I threw myself to the ground and kicked at my attacker's knee. Their knee popped and they went down screaming.

There was more movement behind me but I didn't have time to see what it was, because whoever had tried to attack me from behind was limping toward me.

Their face was covered with a leather mask, their body cloaked from head to toe. The only thing that scared me was the razor sharp claws sticking out of their knuckles.

I crawled backward, my pulse in my throat.

There was a flash behind me then pain. All there was, was pain. Undeniable, fire blazing pain. I gritted my teeth, my body spasming. If I started screaming, I'd never stop.

"Don't move so much, it'll hurt less. Feel like a pinch." A man whispered into my ear.

I flung my head back and banged him in the forehead.

He growled behind me and the pain twisted through my body like flames licking things that should never be touched.

"That hurt, you bitch."

I bit my tongue, trying to keep any sound from coming out of my mouth. My three main goals were to not scream, throw up, or die. I took a shallow breath and winced. My body was starting to sweat. I could feel the warm blood soaking the back of my shirt.

If I didn't do something soon, he was going to bleed me to death.

The person in front of me kneeled on the balls of their feet. They cocked their head and cackled. The sound chilled the marrows in my bones. Their voice came out as more of a growl than as a voice, "Kill her."

"Do you know who I am, Granger?" The man behind me asked, ignoring their companion.

I bit my lip, afraid if I opened my mouth I'd throw up the breakfast I hadn't eaten. The pain intensified and copper filled my mouth as I bit my lip harder.

"Answer the question, or I'll start cutting pieces off of you." He said cheerfully.

The person in front of me cackled louder.

"No." I said with a strained voice.

I felt him tense behind me. "Now that doesn't feel right. I know you've thought about it."

I had thought about it. But it couldn't have been right; it was just a theory.

"I don't know who you are."

"YOU DO!" He screamed in my ears.

I cringed, then grimaced. I could feel his anger, his outrage that I wouldn't say what he wanted me to say. I laughed at his impotence, choking on the pain.

I felt whatever had stabbed me from behind, pull free and I fell flat on my back, staring up at the man behind me with my blood decorating a pair of claws on his left hand. He loomed above me like some dark war god.

Then there was a sound by my car and both of them looked towards the sound.

I was on my feet before they turned around. I flung myself into the trees, into the shadows that only the trees could bring. I ran as if I could see where I was going, flinging myself into half perceived openings, trusting to the woods the way you trust water, knowing it will part before you without question. I gave myself over to the woods. You don't run in the woods with your eyes. You run with the same part of your brain that makes the back of your neck prickle. I ran and leaped and dodged, and knew it wouldn't be enough.

I was already on the verge of passing out from the pain. It would be a miracle if I didn't pass out from blood loss, but I had a feeling the pain would conquer the loss of blood before the latter succeeded.

A howl cut through the trees in a long, mournful line. There was a growl and then everything was silent.

I slipped going over a log that was bigger around than a small car. I fell, sprawling. I lay there for a moment on the ground, catching my breath, and I didn't have the faintest idea what to do. I didn't so much hear them as feel them in the ground under my hands. I pressed myself against the huge log, and my hands found an opening. It was partially hollow. I crawled into the black opening, not caring that there might be something waiting inside for me.

I knew they'd find me. That wasn't the point. It would take them a little time to get me out of the hole. I was trying to buy time. I just couldn't figure out what I would use the time for. My brain was going fuzzy.

"Granger," Someone called out, "Granger, where are you?"

Good he didn't know where I was. I strained my ears, closing my eyes. I could hear only one pair of footsteps. What happened to the other person?

The log moved. I froze as if just holding very still would save me.

The end of the log near my feet lifted into the air. The cavity that had hidden me kept me trapped as that one end rose slowly into the air. The fallen tree was at least six feet around. I didn't know how much it weighed, but it had to be heavy.

"Come on, Granger."

I looked around the log and thought '_I need something'_. My hand brushed against something. I picked it up as discreetly as I could. It was a piece of wood with a really sharp end. How the hell did that get in here? Doesn't matter it was a weapon.

I crept very carefully out from under the huge log. It was a crushing weight. A fine trembling ran through his body all the way to his feet. It was not effortless to hold the fallen giant up. I stayed crouched just beside his leg. He'd have to put the log down before he could touch me. He stared down at me with wolf eyes.

I shoved the piece of wood into his belly and rolled away from him, tearing the wood along his stomach as I moved. He fell to his knees and the tree fell on top of him. I pinned him to the ground but there was still the other person out there.

I started running through the trees again. When I thought I was far enough away I stopped and put my hands on my knees. I was missing something here. Why were they trying to kill me?

I blinked. I had no idea.

I felt the rushing of air and looked in time to see the man I'd pinned under the tree. He hit me from the side in a flying tackle. I was on my back with him on top of me, one arm pinned between us. I had a second to know who I'd thought he was.

"Greyback." I breathed.

He pulled off his mask and glared down at me. "How had you known?"

Something hard poked into my back and I took his hesitation to grab it and think, "_Petrificus Totalus."_

He fell on top of me, causing the wounds in my back to scream. The pain became too much.

I didn't pass out, but my body went limp. My wand fell from my fingers, and I couldn't stop it. Part of me was screaming silently. The other part was saying, "_Oh, what pretty trees_."


	2. The Hospital

A/N: Enjoy!

~Ripley

I woke up smelling alcohol and disinfectant spray. Must be a hospital. I was going to get a headache and fast. I opened my eyes to see where I was and sure enough; it was a hospital.

I lay there blinking into the light, happy to be awake.

The door opened and Gawain Robard walked in. He was smiling. He had on a pair of half-mooned glasses at the bridge of his nose. His head was tilted down so he could stare at me over them.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he walked toward the bed.

I tried to talk, cleared my throat. He got a glass from the small bedside table, bent the straw so I could drink.

"Like shit." My voice still sounded rough. He offered me the water again, and I took it. I tried again, and this time my voice sounded more like me. "I feel like shit, but its happy shit."

He smiled again. "That was really stupid what you did out there, but we caught our bad guy."

"We don't know that he did it though."

He gave me a look that said I was being either naïve or obtuse. Since I wasn't being either on purpose I didn't get what he meant. "It was Fenrir Greyback, Hermione. Our killer was a werewolf, he is a werewolf. Even if it is not him, we still have a major killer and Voldemort follower on our hands. That is something."

I chuckled softly, leaning my head back against the pillow. "I guess so. I really don't want to talk about the case anymore, if you don't mind."

He nodded. "I figured you'd say that. Potter's outside. I'll tell him to come on in." He started walking away, then turned around. "Glad you're alright, Hermione, even if what you did was really stupid."

"Thanks, Robard."

He shook his head. "Call me Gawain. Robard makes me sound old."

I smiled. "Alright, Gawain."

He turned and left.

I pressed the button to slowly raise the bed. The closer I got to a sitting position, the more I hurt. The wounds on my back did not like sitting up and would probably like walking even less. I was just glad I didn't have to have stitches. Magic was a wonder and a lot easier when it came to pain.

When I was in a sitting position, I waited for a few seconds, listening to my body complain.

Harry came in the door. He was wearing his casual clothes, which pretty much consisted of a plain t-shirt and blue jeans. Ginny tried to get him to buy more fancy clothes but he said he just wanted something comfortable. He'd told me he didn't want fancy, brand name clothes because he was so used to having hand-me-downs. He seemed more comfortable in his casual clothes anyway, so Ginny seemed happy as long as he was happy, even though he looked like a slob most of the time.

"You're alive. Good." He said.

I gave him a look. "Very funny."

"I wasn't being funny."

We looked at each other. "Why so serious, Harry? The case is closed. We caught our bad guy."

He shook his head and came to stand at the foot of the bed.

"We have him custody."

"Then why the long face?"

He gave a very small smile. "You nearly die, and you ask what's wrong?"

"I know you, Harry. I'm alive, you shouldn't be this serious."

He blinked and stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and ran his hands through his hair like he wanted to rip it out of his skull. "We caught Greyback, but he's not in Azkaban."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to where it almost hurt. I let it out slowly, then opened my eyes so I could look at him. I shook my head, "Harry, I don't want to talk about this case. I told Robard that too. What I do want is to go home and see my daughter."

He nodded, looking around the room. "I can take care of the latter." He turned back to me and smiled. "Rose is getting tea with James and Ginny. She's been frantic to see you, practically screaming to see you. So I'll go get her and see if you can leave."

"Thanks."

He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at me with such pain in his eyes. I didn't know what had him so upset but I just wasn't in the mood to deal with another crisis. Then a thought hit me.

"Harry?"

"What?" he asked.

"What happened to Cuffe?"

He shot me a look.

"She was on stake out with me. She went to the gas station and never came back."

He shrugged. "I'll check it out. I didn't even know she was on duty this morning."

I checked the clock on the wall. It was almost noon. How long have I been out? It had been around six when I woke up in the car, because Rose was going to school. I couldn't have been out that long, could I?

Harry said his good-byes and went to get Rose. She came in bawling, pulling at Ginny's hand.

I held my hands out to her and she came running. I ran my hands in her hair and held her tight to my chest, even though just moving hurt.

"Oh, Rosie, don't cry. Everything's okay." I murmured into her hair.

She crawled into my lap, her little arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I stared at Ginny, whose eyes were blurry with unshed tears. I dropped one of my hands from Rose and held it out to Ginny. She came over onto the side of the bed and held my hand tightly.

My eyes burned but damn it, if I cried, I wouldn't stop.

I held onto Ginny's hand as she fought to not cry and held Rose against my body as tightly as I could. I didn't even care that holding her shot pain up my spine. The only thing I cared about was making her tears dry.

When the tears slowed, she just lay in my lap. She turned her head to look me in the eye. Her brown eyes were swollen and red but her face was so serious, so unlike what a five year olds face should be able to express.

"I told you what I saw and you didn't listen to me." She whispered so softly that I had to lean my head almost to hers.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean, Rosie?"

"He told me that you were going to die and you didn't listen to me."

I glanced up at Ginny. She shook her head, like she didn't know what Rose meant either. Great.

"Who told you?"

Rose wiped her eyes and kneeled in my lap so we were at eye-level. "He told me not to tell you, because you wouldn't understand."

I cupped her face in my hands, making her look at me. "Rose, remember what I told you about strangers?"

She nodded. "You told me not to talk to them unless you said it was okay. But I don't talk to him, he talks to me. In my head."

I sighed. "Rose, we will talk about this later when we get home. Ginny can you take her out so I can get dressed?"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Are you allowed to leave?"

I shrugged, then winced. "I don't care at this moment. I just want to get out of here."

She didn't argue with me after that.

I had my gown halfway down my arms when I realized I couldn't just yank the sticky pads that connected me to the heart monitor. Just yanking them off would give the hospital staff just a little too much excitement.

I finally pressed the Healer call button. I had to get unplugged from all the drips and machines.

The Healer came almost immediately, which either meant St. Mungo's had more Healers on staff, or I was really hurt and they were paying extra attention to me. I was hoping for a surplus of healers, but wasn't betting on it.

The Healer was shorter than I am, very petite, with blond hair cut short and sort of bouncy. Her professional smile wilted when she saw me sitting up with the gown obviously coming off.

"What are you doing, Mrs. Granger?"

"Getting dressed," I said.

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Look, I'd prefer help getting all the tubes and wires off me, but it is all coming off because I'm checking out."

"I'll get Healer Kennedy," She turned and walked out.

"You do that," I said to the empty room. I got a death grip on the little wires that attached to the sticky pads and pulled. It felt like I'd pulled a foot worth of skin off with them, a sharp, grinding ache, like it would hurt to touch the skin. The high pitched scream of the machine let people know my heart was no longer going pitty-pat on the other end of the wire.

The pads had left large circular welts on my skin, but they were not nearly as big as they felt. The fact that the welts hurt enough to rise above all the other aches and pains let you know how raw my skin felt.

Healer Kennedy came through the door while I was still working on the tape that bound my hand to the IV board. He turned the screaming heart monitor off.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"Getting dressed."

"The hell you are."

I looked up at his enraged face and just didn't have any anger to throw back at him. I was too tired and too hurt to waste energy on anything but the process of getting up and getting out of this bed.

"I've got to go, Kennedy," I kept picking at the tape and wasn't making much progress. I need my wand. "Where's my wand?"

He ignored the question, and asked one of his own. "Where could you possibly need to go so badly enough to climb out of this bed?"

"I need to go back to work and then I have to have a talk with my daughter."

"I heard they caught the guy."

"Ministry business, Kennedy." I'd gotten an edge of the tape up.

He took a breath, to argue, I think, but Harry came into the room. Harry ignored Healer Kennedy and whipped his wand out. The tape was suddenly gone.

He smiled at me. "Ginny has your wand." He turned to Healer Kennedy, giving him an unfriendly look. "Just deal with it. She is the most stubborn, determined patient you're ever going to have. Since she's not dying, you're not going to be able to keep her if she wants to leave. So I'd just shut up."

We left him speechless.


	3. Priorities & Patience

A/N: So as you can see, I'm updating hella fast haha. So I hope you enjoy(:

~Ripley

"Don't fall asleep, Hermione, you'll drown."

I sighed, sinking into the hot water until it came up to my chin. The water soothed my back, making me feel all warm and safe.

"You won't let me drown, Ginny." I breathed.

"No, I won't." She said.

I opened my eyes to glance at her. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, a burgundy towel on her lap, staring at me with concern flashing in her eyes.

I was fine, honestly. A little shook up, a little aching, and tired, but life goes on.

Holding my nose together between finger and thumb, I took a deep breath, and disappeared under the surface completely. When I finally re-emerged, spluttering into the steamed-up air, Rose was staring at me from the doorway with glazed eyes, holding her favorite teddy bear tightly against her chest.

Ginny stood up, putting the towel on the toilet. "I'll leave you two for a moment."

I nodded. When Ginny closed the door silently behind her, Rose came over and kneeled by the tub. She kept her head down, refusing to look at me.

"Rosie, it's alright." I said.

"You're mad at me." Her little voice was thick with tears.

I sat up, grinding my teeth as pain shot through my back, and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face up so she could see me. I put all the reassurance I could into my face, so she could see, see that I wasn't the least bit mad at her.

"I am not mad at you. I just wish you would have told me about," I paused to think of the right word, "this person before, that's all."

"He told me not to tell you."

I gripped her chin lightly. "You need to tell me about this kind of stuff, Rose. You could get hurt. I don't know what I would do without you."

She nodded.

I let go of her chin and leaned back against the tub, shivering as the cool fiberglass hit my back. "Now tell me everything. When did it start?"

She took a moment to think about it, closing her eyes in concentration, then said, "When daddy left."

I stared at her, trying to keep the shock off my face. I didn't even know what to say to that. "That was a while ago, Rose. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

She shrugged. "You were busy."

Of course, this was my entire fault. This was one of those moments where I really wished I had some epiphany or something to help with my daughter. I worked long hours. I rarely saw her and when I did, she was so tired. Guilt swirled inside my stomach, making me want to hurl.

I took a deep breath and asked another question, choosing to ignore what she had said. I'd just fought off death, I think I had a right not to want to go down that path at this moment.

"What has this person been talking to you about?" I did my best to keep the quotations off of the 'person'.

"He's asked me about you, and Uncle Harry and daddy. He wanted to know where you worked and where I went to school and where I go when you are work."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said that you worked with Uncle Harry and daddy at the ministry and that I always go to Auntie Ginny's or Nana Molly's because you don't like Auntie Audrey and Auntie Angelina is always busy with Uncle George." She said matter-of-factly.

I barked a laugh. This day just kept getting better and better. "Have you ever met this person?"

She shook her head. "He's been at my school though."

I took a deep breath, wincing as my back twitched, then let it out slowly. "What does he look like?"

"It was a wolf, he told me it was him. He asked me to go with him, but I told him you said I couldn't be with strangers."

"A wolf?"

"Yes, mum." She said exasperatedly. "Don't you remember the picture I drew yesterday? That was him, he's a wolf. A big white wolf."

I sat up in one swift movement and gripped her shoulders. I fought off the urge to shake her. "Do not talk this person again. If he talks to you, you tell me. Do you understand me?"

"You're hurting me, mum."

I shook her. "Do you understand me, Rosaline?"

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

The door opened and Ginny walked in. She stared at us both. She spoke slowly, carefully, in that voice you use for people on ledges, when they're far, far above the ground. "Hermione, what's going on?"

I let go of Rose and shook my head. She ran out of the bathroom, leaving her little teddy bear behind. I could already hear her sobbing to Harry.

Ginny came in, slowly, sitting on the edge of the tub, yet again. Her face showed nothing but her eyes were full of worry.

"I just hurt my daughter, Ginny." I said, calmly. I couldn't feel anything, or maybe I was just feeling too much at the moment.

"Hermione," Ginny paused, staring down at her lap. She was quiet for a moment, then she looked up with determination etched in her face. "I think you should take a leave of absence." She held up her hand before I could even open my mouth. "Hear me out before you go all defensive like you always do. I know how much this case means to you, but they did technically capture the killer. Harry said that the case will be officially closed and won't be allowed to be opened up again, so going back to work now, after you just got out of the hospital would be a bad idea. Plus, you need to spend time with your daughter. You know the only reason she's acting like is because she wants your attention."

I wanted to argue with her, but everything she said was right. I'd barely spent a day with Rose, talking to her only when it was really important. My life has been about my job. I'd made it my number one priority when I really needed to make Rose my number one priority. Oh Merlin, I was turning into my husband.

"I've become Ron," My voice sounded so shocked, I almost laughed. Almost, not quite.

Ginny laughed beside me. "I think you've become deranged, 'Mione. Speaking of Ron though, he's outside with Harry. He's worried as hell for you."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised, he is your husband after all, even if you are trying to divorce him." On that note she left me to my slowly cooling water and pruned- up digits.

I walked out into the living room with a towel on my head and a towel around my body. Harry was sitting on the couch, his arms spread along the back, head tilted, eyes closed. Ron was standing by the window. Even from here, I could see the faint tremble going through his body. His hands were in fists, his back turned to me.

Ginny had taken Rose to her room and was trying to get her calmed down. I didn't want to think that the fact that Rose was upset was because of me. I just couldn't bear it. I'd hurt my daughter, I'd had no right to do that.

Ron turned around and our eyes met. He stared at me with wide blue eyes. I suddenly wanted to run to him and be held. I wanted someone to take away all the pain going through me right now.

Instead I just stared at him. He was still wearing his ministry uniform. His tie was loose and crooked, just like it always was after a long day of work. His hair was pushed up, like he'd run his hand through it one too many times. He only did that when he was stressed. I honestly didn't know what he'd be stressed about, he wasn't the one that just came from the hospital and hurt his daughter. Okay, that's slightly unfair.

The look in Ron's eyes, were anything but friendly. "I see your doing well."

"Ron," Harry said from the couch, "don't be a prat."

Ron sighed, deep enough that it made his shoulders rise and fall. He threw off his cloak, revealing his white button-up shirt.

He looked at Harry. "We need to talk in private, can you go somewhere else?"

Harry nodded, silently.

I gave him a pleading look.

He shrugged. Bastard.

When Ron and I were alone, he stared down at me and said nothing.

I sighed. "Ron, I don't know why you came if you're going to fight with me. We did this yesterday and I wasn't in the mood for it. I'm still not in the mood for it today, so either leave or tell me what you want."

"Why didn't you call? I could have taken over your shift. I could have kept you from being hurt, Hermione."

"And get it thrown in my face?"

He opened his mouth, shut it. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't throw it in your face."

"Yes, you would. You'd think I was too much of a wimp to be doing this line of work. You've said it over and over again. You've always wanted me to be some house wife and let you do all the work, but it's never going to work like that. I need to work and you need to see that. I didn't call you because in doing so, you'd win."

Ron came toward me, his anger steaming off him.

I stepped back and the towel on my head fell off, landing in a thud at my feet. I shivered as my wet hair fell onto my back, but kept backing away as Ron came closer.

I'd never been scared of Ron. He was hot-tempered, but he'd never physically hurt me. Now, I wasn't so sure.

He had me up against the wall, but he wasn't touching me.

"This isn't about winning, Hermione. This is about your safety. You were just too stubborn to call, even though you were exhausted." He snarled into my face.

"I had help, I didn't need you and I certainly don't need you now." I said, my voice low.

We glared at each other for a moment, then he slammed his hands against the wall next to my head. I let out a little yelp, staring at the place where his hands had landed. He'd left an imprint in my wall. My legs collapsed underneath me. When I looked up at him, his eyes were so wide you could see white in them.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't…I don't know what came over me." He pushed away from the wall, eyes wide and wild.

Before I could say anything, Harry and Ginny came into the living room to see what all the commotion was about. Ginny glared at her brother and came to me, pulling me tightly into her arms.

Harry looked at me, "You alright, 'Mione?"

I nodded, not taking in what had just happened.

"Ron, get out of here." Ginny said, still glaring at her brother.

Ron kept shaking his head over and over again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Harry went to Ron, taking him by the elbow, and led him out of the house. Ron just kept repeating the same apology over and over again.

I pushed away from Ginny. She let me, but was clearly puzzled.

"Thank you for everything, Ginny, but if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone." My voice was so calm it scared me.

"You think that's a good idea?"

I shook my head. "I don't know anymore."

"You want me to take Rose?"

I kept shaking my head.

She hugged me tightly. "Get some rest and call me in the morning. If you don't, I'm going to come over here and beat on your door until you answer."

I hugged her back, my eyes tightly shut. I'd cried so much in the last couple of days, I felt like I was pregnant all over again. She'd been right. I needed to take some time off. Robard was retiring. I'd be stuck with Cuffe and I couldn't handle that right now. Rose needed me and I was going to be there. I needed to take another look at my life. I needed to straighten out my priorities.

Ron could go to hell. He'd said he wanted to keep me safe but that was utter bollocks. He just wanted to suck up to me. I'd never forgive him, I just couldn't. Not because of the little episode he had just pulled, but every time he'd put himself first. Every time he'd yelled at me because I didn't have time to be with him. Every fucking time he'd made me feel worthless. I'd said it was over and there was no going back and I'd meant it. If and this is a big fat IF, I ever went back to him, we'd have to start all over. It would be beyond exhausting. There's no way I could put myself let alone Rose through that. It just wasn't worth it.

Harry came back into the living room. He stopped short, watching Ginny and I. "Hermione, I still need a statement."

Ginny let go of me to glare at her husband. "Don't you see she's upset, Harry? You can get a statement tomorrow." She kept glaring at him, daring him to challenge her.

Harry nodded, his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hair. "Okay," He held his hands out, palms forward in surrender, "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione. Get better."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Harry."

Rose's bedroom was all purple with a big round canopy bed. Her walls were covered with butterflies of all sizes. She had all her toys neatly stacked on one side of her room and the other was one big floor-to-ceiling window.

The window had always made me nervous. She could throw something and break it, people could see through perfectly. Yes, there were woods behind my house but that just made it more secluded. Anybody could see in here if they were in the woods, and we couldn't see them.

I sighed. I was getting too worked up. I was tired and hurt. Overwhelmed. Even my inner monologue showed how completely incoherent I was.

Rose's little red head showed on top of her purple pillows. I came over to her side of the bed. Her big brown eyes watched me. She moved just her head, turning to look at me, no, to watch me. She watched me like every movement was important. It was a level of scrutiny that made me want to squirm. And to think it was coming from a five year old made it even worse.

I stopped a foot away from the bed, staring down at her. She said nothing, just kept watching me with wary eyes.

"I'm sorry about what I did earlier. I promise to never do that again." I whispered.

"I told you would be mad at me." She whispered back.

I kneeled down by the bed so that our eyes were level. "I wasn't mad at you, I was scared for you."

Her face scrunched up in confusion. "Why?"

"Because, I don't know what's going on in that head of yours. I want you to be safe, sweetheart, and whoever this person is, could hurt you."

Rose shifted as the fan by the door passed over her. Then stillness. Her hair, the sheet, everything utter still while the fan made its circuit. It swept back, spilling over everything in reverse; the sheets, Rose's hair, my chest this time, blowing my own hair back from my face, then past us, and the heat of the afternoon wrapped around us like a suffocating hand.

We sat in silence, me kneeling beside the bed, Rose watching me from the bed.

"I'm sorry." She said finally.

I sighed again. "Don't keep something like this from me again."

"I won't."

I stood up, my knees cracking from kneeling too long. "I'll be right back."

The bathroom was still humid from my bath. Fog was slowly receding from the mirror. Rose's teddy bear lay abandoned by the tub. I went and grabbed it, clutching it to my chest, just like she did earlier.

When I went back into the bedroom, I could hear her soft snores. I couldn't help but smile. The day might not be over but it had certainly been full. I laid her teddy bear next to her and crawled into the bed, wrapping my arms around her. She snuggled up closer to me.

"Mum…" She breathed.

I closed my eyes, feeling the effects of the day wearing my body down. "Sleep my little Rosebud. Sleep until morning calls us."

Then darkness over took me. I couldn't have asked for more.

Out in the afternoon light, as the shadows slowly took over every ray inside the woods, a howl sounded. It echoed off the trees, causing birds to fly out of their hiding places in fright. Scurrying animals ran for cover, making the leaves on the ground crunch.

When everything was silent, you could hear the low panting of some big predator. You couldn't hear its paws hit the leaves. It knew better than to land on the leaves and reveal its hiding place.

A house stood by the woods edge, the afternoon light shining in the windows. One big window caught its eye. Crouching low to the ground, ears perked, head down, it crept forward. Movement came from inside the house.

A woman stared out into the window. Even from here you could see the nervous twitch in her muscles. She didn't like the woods. Her pulse thudded inside of her, making its mouth water.

This was the woman it wanted. The revenge it felt towards her overrode the hunger. But, not yet. Revenge had to wait. The white wolf lay down, watching the woman with content. It would get its revenge in due time. Until then…Patience.


	4. Statements

The smell of strong brewed coffee wafted through the house into Rose's room. I crawled out leaving the snoring little figure in peace. Rose didn't even move. She was like her father in so many ways, it was rather frightening.

I went and sat at my little two-seater kitchen table sipping hot, black Colombian vintage. Beans fresh from my freezer. Ground on the spot. There was no other way to drink coffee. Though in a pinch I'll take it just about any way I can get it.

The doorbell chimed. I jumped, spilling coffee onto the table.

I checked the peephole and opened the door. Harry, Ginny, and a half-asleep James stood in the doorway. Without a hello, James waltzed in, collapsing on the couch.

Harry chuckled and smiled at me. "I smell coffee."

I grinned back. "You know where it is."

He walked in, going straight for the kitchen. Ginny hung back, giving me some serious eye contact. I stared at her, with as innocent a face as I could. It must not have worked because her brown eyes narrowed and she dragged me into the kitchen.

"Harry," She snapped, "Something is wrong with her."

Harry leaned against the counter staring over his mug of coffee with an amused expression on his face. He took a sip, then sat the mug down on the counter, crossed his arms, and stared at his wife.

"If something was wrong, don't you think she'd tell you?" He asked.

Ginny just glared at him.

I pulled my arm out of her grip. "I'm fine, honest. I just want to get this statement over and get on with my day."

She turned her glare towards me and I fought not to take a step back. Weasley tempers just weren't fair to us normal tempered people.

"Why don't you go into the living room with James until this is over?" Harry asked as casually as possible.

Ginny glared at us both and stormed out.

Harry and I exchanged glances.

"She wasn't like this yesterday." I said, staring out into the hallway.

He shrugged. "She's hormonal."

I gave him a look and he grinned.

The doorbell chimed for the second time this morning. Harry's grin faded into a grimace. I went to the door and checked the peephole out of habit. I couldn't help keep the smile off my face. I opened the door and Auggie Anderson stared down at me, grinning like a kid with an ice cream bar.

He's about two inches taller than I am. His coal-black hair is streaked with grey and white. Thick waves of it frame his thin face and black mustache. He's fifty-two and the biggest flirt I've ever met in my entire life. He is also one of the best Aurors, other than Harry of course, that has walked the halls of the Ministry. Oh, and Harry and Ron hate him to pieces.

"Anderson, I don't need you here." Harry said, his voice cold.

I looked over my shoulder at him. His green eyes were mere slits as he stared at the man in my doorway. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and turned back to Auggie, who seemed immune to Harry's insolence.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Heard you took a tumble with the big bad wolf, had to see what damage it did to you." He said cheekily.

I laughed and let him in. He walked into the living room, nodded to Ginny and the passed-out James, and went straight to the kitchen like he owned the place. Seeing as he's only been here once, it was surprising.

After filling a cup of coffee to the brim, Auggie eased himself into a chair. I noticed there were lines at his eyes and mouth, those tight tired lines you get sometimes, if you're really stressed. I filed that observation for later.

"Hermione, you said you wanted to do this statement, let's get it over with." Harry mumbled.

I glanced at him. He was glaring down at the floor.

"Harry, you asked for this statement, if you don't want to be here, then leave and Auggie can take it instead."

He looked up at me, surprised. We stared at each other for a moment then he spread his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to step on your toes."

"I know, but you need to stop this stupid feud between you and Auggie." I said.

He opened his mouth and emotions flowed over his face like water; anger, humour, denial. He finally settled on a smile, but it wasn't a happy one. "Alright."

I sighed. "Alright."

The doorbell rang again, making us all jump. I went for it, muttering under my breath. This was just supposed to be Harry and I, not a whole crowd of people. Ginny and Auggie were fine but who the hell was at my door now?

Harry made it to the door first. He leaned against it, with wide eyes. "Hermione, before you open the door, I just want you to know that she just wanted to apologize. She caught me in the office last night and asked for your address. She was really beat up about what happened to you at the crime scene."

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you on about?"

"Just promise me you'll be nice and I'll open the door."

"I'm not promising you anything, now let me open the door."

Harry shook his head.

I put my hands on my hips and yelled, "Don't make me call your wife."

Harry glared at me and moved from the door. "That isn't fair, Hermione."

I smiled sweetly at him and opened the door.

Cassandra Cuffe smiled sheepishly at me. Her hair was pulled up in yet another loose ponytail and she was wearing the same ugly lace-up shoes. She was also leaning on a crutch.

She held up her hand and said hurriedly, "Now, before you start yelling at me for abandoning you, I just want you to know I am so sorry. I feel so awful about what happened. I would have been there in a heartbeat but…" She trailed off, staring down at the ground as her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

I stared at her for a moment, then asked, "What's with the crutch?"

"She fell." Harry stated from behind me.

I shot a glare at him and he backed away. Brownie points for him.

"I fell on the way to the gas station and dislocated my knee." Cuffe whispered self-consciously.

"Isn't that convenient," I wanted to say but instead I said, "I'm sorry."

She glanced up at me, her mouth twitching. "You're not mad at me?"

I shrugged and opened the door wide enough for her to come in. She smiled at me and limped in. Harry helped her into the kitchen and eased her into one of the chairs. Auggie watched from his seat with raised eyebrows but stayed silent.

Ginny came in. I don't know what the look on my face was, but it caused her to bark a laugh. In that moment, I honestly wanted to slap someone but I restrained myself.

"Does anybody need a refill?" She asked.

Auggie picked up his mug and downed it, handing it across the table. Harry made a visible effort not to shake his head, though he wanted to. Auggie was a fifty-two year old man and Harry hated him and for what? I really didn't want to know.

Ginny handed me my mug back with coffee nearly to the brim, just the colour I liked it, pale brown. By the colour alone, I knew it would be perfect. "I went to St. Mungo's yesterday after we left your house and Healer Kennedy gave me this herbal infusion to give to you. I put it in your coffee. So drink," she said, "it will make you feel better."

"I feel fine," I said, but I sipped the coffee. It had a slight mint taste but other than that, it was perfect.

"We've spent the last couple of minutes stalling. Since Cuffe is here, I can get both of your statements." Harry said as he fished out a notepad.

I was standing close enough to Cuffe to see the sudden stillness go through her body. I did my best not to point it out.

When Harry had his quill poised and ready, he stared expectantly at Cuffe. I heard the slight sigh of her breath, as if she'd been waiting for him to look at her, then she started from the beginning. She was very carefully not looking at me, or anyone, but especially not me. I don't know how I knew that she wasn't just going off into that place where people seem to go when they talk from memory. When she got to the part of the gas station she slowed down.

Harry watched her patiently, then helped her out, "What happened when you left the car?"

She stared at him with glazed over eyes. "I started walking to the gas station and something tripped me. I fell and hit my head and then I blacked out. When I woke up, I was lying in the grass with a swollen knee."

We all sat in silence.

Ginny's eyebrows raised as she bustled around the kitchen. She tried to be blissfully unaware of us, but I knew her too well. She'd have this whole scene fried in her brain so she could play it back to me. She got the big marble board out of the cabinet and put it down beside the sink. The marble was only used for one thing- baking of some sort. She moved to the fridge, getting out the dough I'd made a couple days before. Apparently, she was going to use it for biscuits, as I had planned on doing yesterday.

Auggie wasn't watching Cuffe or Harry, he was watching me. His brown eyes were very serious, as if he were afraid of what I was going to do. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, that I wasn't going to blow this and make a complete idiot of myself, but I'm not really good at reassuring smiles. So his eyes went from serious to a little worried.

Harry made a long blink, his way of trying to think of something to say, then said with a confused expression on his face, "What did you trip on exactly?"

Cuffe glanced at all of us. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I didn't say that."

I sipped coffee out of my mug, and watched them both, feeling surprisingly calm. I wonder if I'm going insane.

"But you don't. None of you do, I can see it on all of your faces. What would I have to hide? Hell, look at my leg. Do you think I did this to myself?" She yelled at us.

"Don't yell in my house, my daughter is asleep and I would like to keep it that way until all of you have left."

Cuffe stared at me.

I stared back.

"Mum…"

We all turned toward the hall. James and Rose stood staring at us. Rose was holding her teddy by the arm, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. James just glared at us, angry that we'd disturbed his sleep.

"James take Rose back to her room." Ginny said hurriedly.

He glared at her. "I don't even want to be here, why should I watch her?"

"Do not talk to your mother like that, James. Take Rose to her room until we're finished." Harry scolded.

I put my hands on the coolness of the counter, closed my eyes, and just tried not to think. Not thinking was good. Not feeling was better.

A hand laid itself over mine. I knew without opening my eyes who it was. I opened my eyes and met Auggie's brown gaze.

I couldn't breathe, not a good solid breath. He watched me with concern. I jerked away from him, shaking my head. "Don't touch me right now, please."

A hand touched my arm, and I jerked away from it. Harry's eyes were cautious rather than hurt. "What's wrong?"

I moved back from both of them, bumping up against the island hard enough that the dishes rattled in the cabinets.

"Hermione." Ginny's voice. She was at the end of the island looking at me with Rose in her arms.

I couldn't seem to get a deep enough breath. It was as if the room was getting smaller. Harry was in front of me, and either side of the island was blocked by Auggie and Cuffe. I felt cornered, trapped in so many ways.

"Guys," Ginny said, "I think she needs some air."

"No." I said, but my voice sounded choked.

She came and moved them all away from me, shooing them back. "Come on, a little fresh air and some open space." She held out her hand to me, but careful not to touch me, as if she knew what I was feeling better than I did. She eased me to the drapes and pushed me through them onto the open deck.

The light was dazzling, and I was blind with it for a moment. When I could see again, she was far away as the wraparound deck would allow her to be and still be on it. She didn't say anything, just looked out at the view and watched Rose as she twirled in a circle with her teddy bear in her hands.

I started to say something, then thought, _She's right. _I went to the railing and looked out at the trees. The trees were all different colours of green. The wind stirred a cascade of leaves, showering them down around me. The sky was that flawless blue that only happens after winter, as if the sky were closer, fresher, newly minted blue, as if all the clear skies until now had been practice for these few weeks of blue, blue sky. I breathed in the heavy gold of the sun. It smelled like spring, that crisp, clean, sharp smell, that is made up of newly blossomed flowers and grass, cool nights, and the warm breath of the day before night falls. You could taste spring on your tongue like some kind of herb or candy, something fresh and fragrant and sweet. I took in as much air as I could and let it out slow, as if my body didn't want to let it go.

I stood there leaning on the railing, drinking in the sunlight, and the fresh smell of the woods. I was smiling and calm all on my own by the time Ginny spoke. She stayed on her end of the deck, as if she wasn't sure how much room I needed. "Feel better?"

"Yes," and I smiled at her, though I felt a little embarrassed. "Sorry that I lost it in there."

"You've had a lot happen in a short space of time, Hermione."

"You can say that again."

"I mean, first Ron, then Robard retiring and having some rookie become your boss, and then the attack. It's a miracle that you aren't hospitalized by now."

I sighed, and the smile was gone. "Yeah, but life isn't that pleasant."

"No one could handle all that you handle, Hermione, better or worse. You keep surprising all of us."

"Us, who?" I asked.

She smiled, watching Rose as she spun around, giggling. She turned back to me, wrapping an arm around her stomach. "Harry and I. I mean I can't really speak for him, but I know you constantly amaze us. We never know what's going to happen next, but we know you'll come out of it shining." She leaned against the rail and stared at me.

"I wish I felt the same way."

"You need to stop wallowing in self-doubt."

"You know, I really don't want to psychoanalyze myself right now."

"Fine," she raised her hand as if to show she was unarmed, "but the next time you start losing it, and you need some air, get some air okay?"

"It was that obvious?" I asked.

"If I say yes, you won't like it, because you hate for anyone to be able to read you. If I say no, I'd be lying, and you hate that, too."

"I'm just impossible to get along with, aren't I?"

"Not impossible, but not exactly easy either." She gave a small laugh to soften it, and said, "Do you feel up to going back inside?"

I took another deep breath and nodded. "Sure." I turned back to the railing, "Rose, let's go inside. There are biscuits in the oven."

She came running onto the deck, her teddy bear trailing along behind her. I was going to have to wash that soon.

She nodded, too. "Good, you have to finish your statement anyway."

I nodded and felt the good air leaving me. Before I stepped back through the sliding glass doors, I had a thought, didn't I dislocate that guys knee in the woods? My eyes widened. I never told Harry about that. What was wrong with me?

I pushed the drapes away. I stood there in the sudden dimness of the curtained kitchen, letting my eyes adjust. My eyes automatically turned to where Cuffe had been, but she wasn't there. She wasn't in the kitchen at all.

I could hear Harry in the living room with James, still scolding him for bad-mouthing his mother. Auggie was still at the table. Rose ran over to him, hugging him around his legs. He chuckled softly and sat her on his lap.

I honestly think he was only friends with me just so he could see my daughter. He was practically in love with her. He has kids of his own, two sons, but he always wanted a daughter. Most men want sons, but no, Auggie wanted a daughter and his wife, well they just couldn't seem to get pregnant again.

"Where did Cuffe go?" I asked him.

He looked up at me. "She left."

"Why?"

He gave me a look. "Thought you'd be happy to see her leave."

I shook my head. "No and yes, but that's not the point. I just thought of something."

Before he could reply, I walked into the living room. Harry and James went silent. James crossed his arms and glared out in front of him, refusing to look at either of us.

"James, can you go help your mum in the kitchen while I talk to your dad, please?" I asked.

He kept glaring.

"James Sirius Potter, go help your mother, and don't make me say it again." Harry said, his voice firm.

James turned his glare to his father, then pushed away from the couch, yelling, "I hate you!" before disappearing down the hall.

Harry frowned, took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose, put them back on, and shook his head. "That kid is making my head hurt." He paused for a moment, then shook his head again, "You ready to finish this?"

"Where did Cuffe go?"

He shrugged. "Said she had to leave. I have her statement, she didn't need to stay. Why?"

I told him a fast version of what had happened at the crime scene, making sure to tell him about the second person who attacked me. He didn't write it down in his notepad but I knew that everything I said, he'd take to heart. When I was finished, he just stared at me.

Harry took a deep breath in, then let it out slow. His shoulders hunched as if he'd taken a blow, and then he straightened up, shoulders back.

He didn't look at me when he said, "Why didn't you tell me, or even Robard about this?"

I looked away from him, shaking my head. "I don't know. It just didn't come to mind until now."

He turned his green eyes to me. I stared at him, feeling like a child.

"Well, it's in the past. Do you remember what they looked like?"

I shook my head. "They were covered from head to toe, but their voice, it was so weird, like an animal. It just didn't seem possible for sounds like that to come out of a human's throat."

Harry nodded, staring down at his lap. "And what, you think it was Cuffe because she had a dislocated knee?"

I shot him a look.

"I admit, it is rather coincidental, but it couldn't have been her. She's not a werewolf." He said.

"How do you know? Has she had a blood test?"

He shook his head.

"There you go. You don't know. It could have been her. And you have Greyback in St. Mungo's for a crime he may not have commited-"

He held up his hands and stood up. "Whoa, whoa, back up."

I stopped and stared at him.

"Hermione, Greyback is guilty of a lot of murders. We've been after him for years. The case is closed, we caught our killer, leave it at that."

I glared at him. "You know that isn't true. Yes, he's committed a lot of crimes back in the day, but that doesn't mean he's guilty of all werewolf attacks. That certainly doesn't mean he is our killer. Do you honestly want to just leave him in St. Mungo's and not even look for the real killer?"

"He's the closest suspect we have, if I re-opened the case, I'd have to let him go. I can't do that, Hermione."

"You don't have to let him go. We all know he's a killer, but that doesn't mean he killed these people."

"I can't open the case and keep him, at least not until I can bring him up on other charges and that's a lot of paperwork. By that time, he can be abroad and out of my hands."

I sighed. "So what about the other person?"

He frowned harder at me. "It's a little late to be looking for them. The only thing we know is that the person is a werewolf and there are a lot of unregistered werewolves. It could be anybody, Hermione."

He came to me then and wrapped his arms around me. I stayed stiff in his arms for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could.

"Let it out, Hermione," he said, "it's not good to hold it in."

I gave a shaky laugh. "This isn't some lifetime movie, Harry. That line doesn't work in real life."

He pulled away, so he could look down at my face. He studied my face for a moment, brushing away the stray tears that ran down my cheeks. "Everything will be okay. We won't let someone hurt you or Rose, I promise."

I hugged him tighter. "Thank you, Harry." I mumbled against his chest.

"Smells like breakfast is done." He said.

I laughed and pulled away. "Way to ruin the moment."

He just grinned at me.

The kitchen was quiet, considering two rowdy kids sat at the table. Auggie watched them both from his chair, still drinking his cup of coffee with a content expression on his face. Ginny walked past me without a word. She had a pile of plates, green glass, and blue glass, suspended in the air as she set the table. First went the green, then a blue. She went around the table away from me, then a plate flew back to the head of the table within touching distance of me.

I stayed like an idiot, rooted to the spot, not sure what to do or say.

Harry came from behind me, giving me an appraising look, which I didn't understand at all. He kissed Ginny on the cheek and sat in the farthest seat away from Auggie.

I watched as Ginny handed out the biscuits. She fetched more coffee, made sure we had at least six kinds of jam, jelly, and preserves. When had there ever been red currant jelly in my fridge? I looked at my best friend bustling around in my kitchen, and knew the answer, since she'd been practically feeding me and Rose, because I can't cook to save my life.

Part of me just wanted to run away and lock myself in my bedroom until they all left like a child, but I had a child and a small part of me that usually saves me from being a pain in the ass was wondering if I should go buy her one of those frilly white aprons. I mean if she was going to play Suzy Homemaker, didn't she need an apron here, as well as at her own house and maybe a string of pearls? The thought made me giggle, and I couldn't stop, and I couldn't share it. I ended up having to excuse myself from the table to let the laughter have its way with me. By the time Ginny found me, the laughter had given way to tears again. No one came looking for us. I was glad, except for a small part of me that kept expecting someone to come through the door. I was ready to be angry if they came, and disappointed if they didn't. Some days I don't make sense, not even to me.

Ginny tried to lure me out of the bedroom with the promise of breakfast and claiming that I couldn't hide here all day. I think it was the hiding comment that got me. I accused her of saying it deliberately, and she said, "Of course, I did. You have to take Rose to school today, Ron can't do it, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to see him right now after the last episode."

I didn't say anything.

Ginny offered me her hand and looked way too serious. "Hermione, you're stressing yourself out. Just take it a day at a time."

I didn't take her hand. In fact, I crossed my arms over my stomach and frowned at her. "You make it sound way too easy."

She knelt in front of me. "Hermione, you've been working yourself up ever since Ron left. You need some time off. I told you already to take a leave of absence, you should."

I looked away from her, putting my head in my hands. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

She grabbed my hands and made me look at her. "Go to Fleur's for a week. Just a week. Take Rose, enjoy the ocean, and spend some time with her. You both need it."

I felt my face going all serious and unhappy.

"Don't give me that look, just go. You'll thank me later."

Little kids ran from the cars, parents hugging them goodbye, before going off to start their day. A woman led a blonde haired boy to the steps, and then kneeled beside him. She hugged him tightly, her black hair intermingling with his. They stayed like that for a moment and then she let go and he ran up the steps.

The woman stood there, watching where the little blonde haired boy disappeared into the building. It could smell her perfume from across the road, through the sweat and odour of all the children and car exhaust. She wore the same sweet fragrance. The same fragrance she wore when it first met her.

She turned towards the road and stared into the woods where it hid.

A little red head ran past her feet and she looked down. It's eyes followed the red head as it made its way up the steps. The crowd cleared and it saw the little girl standing, waiting. The same girl it had watched for weeks, months. She looked out into the woods with apprehension, and then turned to look into the crowd.

It's snorted in surprise.

Her mother knelt beside her, whispering in her ear. It concentrated and heard the last whispered word, "_woods…"_

The mother turned towards the woods and glared. Her brown eyes burned through the trees and it crouched low to the ground. For a moment, the wolf thought the danger was gone, that the mother was gone, but then it heard leaves crunch. Leaves close to the road, close to the edge.

The wolf's head went up and it pulled its lips up, exposing its teeth, ready to growl if need be. The sound stopped, then the woman's voice rang out into the woods.

"I know you're here. " Her voice sent shivers down its spine.

It crouched lower and crawled through the brush, sticking out its muzzle, sniffing close to her feet. She stood above the wolf, staring out into the woods, oblivious. It could bite her, right now. End it all, right now. But no, not yet. Not yet…

"You leave my daughter alone, you sick bastard." She said, and then ran out of the woods and back into the crowd.

It watched her with amusement, licking its muzzle. Soon...it'd have her soon.


	5. Together We Cry

A/N: Don't like this story much but here it is(: I have a song suggestion, it's what I listened to when I wrote this, anyway, lol, the song is _We Cry by The Script._

The doorbell rang. The sound made me jump. It was an ordinary sound, but not at six in the morning. I left my partially packed suitcase on the unmade bed with Rose cuddling her teddy bear and walked into the living room.

My white furniture looked ablaze in the morning sun.

The doorbell rang again. I fingered my wand, staring at the door barefoot, wondering if taking it out would just be really paranoid. I was already stressed out. I guess it wouldn't hurt.

Pulling it out of my jeans, I called, "Who is it?"

"It's Ron."

My mouth dropped open. What did he want?

I shoved my wand into my pocket, opened the door, and there he was.

He stared at me for a handful of moments, making me want to squirm but I held my ground. Leaning against the doorjamb, I stared back at him and said bluntly, "What do you want?"

"I heard you were leaving." He said nonchalantly.

I nodded. "Yup."

We went back into silence.

"Well you might as well come in." I muttered.

He walked past me. I noticed how wrinkled his clothes were. His hair was in disarray, sticking out in odd places like he'd just run his hand through it without washing it. And maybe he hadn't. He didn't live with me. Whatever he did wasn't my business.

He spoke without turning around. "Were you even going to tell me you were leaving? I do have a right to know if you're leaving with our daughter." He turned then, and his eyes were dark.

"I don't need to tell you everything, Ron." I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. "It's not like I'm kidnapping Rose and leaving the country."

"I know," he said.

He sat down on the couch, resting his elbows on the back of the couch. I thought he was going to just sit there. Instead he said, "I know you don't want to see me and I know I overreacted the other day and I'm sorry." He turned those blue eyes towards me.

I laughed, but it was tense, nervous. My mouth was suddenly dry. I stared at him, trying to get past the sincerity on his face. I felt like stamping my foot and making a tantrum. It just wasn't fair that he could affect me like this.

"I need to pack," I said. I turned abruptly and started walking towards the bedroom.

He followed me.

I put my wand on the bedside table beside my cell phone, got socks out of the drawer, and started tossing them into the suitcase, trying to ignore him. He doesn't ignore easily. He lay on the bed, his knees bent over the edge, talking to Rose, being all calm, like lying on my bed was an everyday thing- which it obviously wasn't. He watched me move around the room, moving just his eyes. He reminded me of a cat; watchful, perfectly at ease.

Ron was never like that. He was intolerant and capricious, never calm.

I went into the bathroom, closed and locked the door. The dim light from the window wasn't enough. I flipped the light switch. It was white and harsh against the dim lighting. I was left blinking in the brightness.

I leaned against the marble counter, getting a good look at myself. My face was stretched tight and pale, showing the tiredness that was wracking my body. My eyes were wide and bloodshot. I looked positively ill.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Rose's little giggles echoed through the bathroom door, followed by Ron's masculine chuckle. I didn't know what he wanted, but whatever it was, wasn't that important. I was leaving for a week, I was coming back.

Everything could wait. I needed this.

I looked at myself in the mirror and repeated it over and over, muttering it to myself, "I need this, I need this, I need this…."

I turned the facet on, turning it to ice cold and splashed my face. I let the little water droplets run down my neck, soaking the collar of my shirt.

Taking another deep breath, I let go of the counter, and walked back out.

Rose had by then left the room, leaving me with Ron. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. When the bathroom door opened, his head snapped up. He stared at me with pain-filled eyes. I looked down.

Wasn't I supposed to be the one in pain here? He'd cheated on me, he'd left me for someone else, and now HE'S playing the victim. Where did he get off being the victim? He'd almost hit me the other day. Yes, he had apologized but apologizing just wasn't enough anymore.

I went back to packing. I tried to make small talk, knowing he wouldn't even try. He was never good at small talk, it was all the dramatics for him. "I told Harry that if anything came up on Greyback or any murders surfaced, to call me. I'm hoping you'll do the same."

He ignored me. I glanced up at him, regretting it the instant I did. Pain was etched into the lines of his face, his blue eyes hard. I could practically see the emotions like storms behind those baby blues.

I decided to ignore him. Maybe he'd just go away.

I heard him slide off the bed and felt him following at my heels. He stalked me while I hurried to and fro, but he paced me, matching each of my quick steps with his easy ones. It was like being chased by a very slow predator, one that had all the time in the world but knew in the end it would catch you.

The second time I almost ran into him, I finally said, "What is your problem? Quit following me around. You're making me nervous." Truth was, his body being so close made my skin jump.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. "I don't want you to go."

That stopped me in my tracks. I turned and stared at him. "Why, for Merlin's sake?"

"Because I know you, 'Mione. You're not just leaving for a break from work. You're leaving to get away from me too." He stood up and came to stand in front of me. He was so close; a hard thought could have us touching. "And when you get back, it won't be the same, I won't even have a chance to getting you back. I can't lose you again, Hermione."

I stared up at him, my arm full of shirts and hangers. There was a look in his eyes that I'd seldom seen. He was scared.

For a moment the pain on his face was so raw, it hurt my heart to see it. Then he mastered himself, but the effort was visible. That made me feel bad, too. "Ron, I…"

He backed away from me, waving a hand at me. "Don't, Hermione, don't even try to make an excuse. It's not good, or bad, it's just the truth." He looked at me then, gave me the full force of those blue eyes. Only they showed the pain that had a moment ago decorated his entire face. Only his eyes showed how much he hurt. How much I had hurt him. I never meant to cut him up like that, just like he never meant to hurt me. We just seemed to keep doing it, by accident. "And the funny thing is, I completely deserve it." His voice was empty when he said it, as if it hurt too much to hear it even by tone of voice.

I sighed. "Ron, why do you have to make everything so hard?" I held up a hand before he could reply. "Don't answer that. I don't want to fight, and I don't want to have this conversation. I can't do this anymore. You will always be in my life, because of Rose, but that's it."

He hung his head, looking completely dejected.

I transferred the blouses to one arm and touched his face. I turned his face up to mine. "We can't change the past, Ron. I love you, I really do, but it's just not enough anymore."

"I messed up." He said softly.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from agreeing with him. It would do nothing to hurt him even more. I'm just not that mean. I tossed the blouses in the general direction of the suitcase and patted his back. How did I end up comforting him?

His arms suddenly encircled my waist and his head was against my stomach. I stared down at him in shock. Anger and hurt I expected, but this reaction surprised me. Just when I thought I knew him.

I knelt down in front of him, making his arms come up to my shoulders. I cupped his face, keeping it a safe distance from mine. I thought of a nice way to say it but I just couldn't. Through all the pain and tears he'd caused me, I just couldn't spare him. In some small part of my brain, I knew I secretly wished him to feel the pain I've felt. I'd tried to ignore it, to push it to the side, willing it to vanish, but now, looking into his face; I felt it with full force. I let go of his face, looking away from him and said, "I need you to go, Ron."

He gave a harsh sound, almost laughter, but bitter. "Of course, you're going to ignore all of it. Why the hell did I actually think you'd care about me?"

And just like that, my pity was gone. The tenderness wiped away with that comment. I stood up abruptly, feeling my face blanking.

He watched me from the bed. Once I could have read his every thought on his face, in his eyes. Now I didn't know him. Sometimes I thought I'd never known him, that we'd both been fooling ourselves.

"You made this bed, Ron." My voice was softer than I wanted it to be, but normal. I wasn't going to cry. "So lie in it."

His hands flexed on his thighs, the only sign that showed how angry he really was.

I watched him cautiously, flashes of his hands slamming into the wall running across my eyes. He met my eyes, no flinching, ready to fight if I wanted to fight. How could he make me feel sorry for him to making me so completely pissed at him? Maybe he was bipolar…

I walked away from him to stand by the window, looking out over the deck. The sun had barely come over the trees. I turned around, and he was already staring at me, already meeting my gaze.

"I have to finish packing. Fleur is expecting me around noon." I said, crossing my arms across my stomach.

He stared at me for a moment longer, then stood up and stomped out of my bedroom like a pouting child. I followed him all the way to the front door.

He had his hand on the doorknob, looking down at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He muttered without turning around, "It's really over isn't it?"

I nodded then realized he couldn't see it and mumbled back, "Yes."

He looked over his shoulder, unshed tears in his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you." Two tears ran down his cheeks but he ignored them, leaving them to make their slow decent. "Have a good time at the cottage." With that he opened the door and walked out into the morning light. An audible pop sounded and I knew he'd finally gone.

**Ron's POV**

I held my head in my hands, feeling a migraine coming on. My left hand was bleeding and I couldn't remember how it had happened. There was glass all over my feet, glass shards sticking in my hand. I'd remembered coming home, trying to drink away any memory of her, but I'd only succeeded in making myself so dizzy I couldn't see straight.

_How could I have been so stupid?_

I stood up, closing my eyes to help me concentrate on walking. I made my way to the bathroom, hunching over the sink and turning on the tap. I put my hand under the water, ignoring the sting. I watched the silky red liquid swirl around the basin, feeling hot tears behind my eyes.

I'd pushed her too far, and now I was paying the price.

I heard a pop from the living room but didn't care who it was. I just didn't care anymore. I needed her so bad.

I glared at my reflection, cursing myself for being so stupid. So selfish.

"Ron?" A feminine voice called out.

I slammed the bathroom door, collapsing to the ground. I wrapped my arms around my knees, listening to the water run.

There was a knock at the door.

"Ron, are you okay?"

I banged my head against the door. "No."

"Can I come in?" Her voice was tentative, cautious.

"No."

Silence, and then she said, "Ron, what's wrong? You know you can talk to me."

"No." I shook my head. "Get out of my house."

"Ron…"

"GET OUT!"

I heard her gasp and then _POP_.

The water overflowed, splashing onto the floor. I stared at it, uncaring.

**Hermione's POV**

Rose sat where the waves could not catch her, moulding wet sand into shapes with her bare feet. The ocean was rough today, and where the waves crashed and sprayed, her damp curls clung to her cheeks. The seagulls watched from above, singing at random intervals. Their song whisked away through the crashes of the sea.

I leaned back against the lounge chair, smiling contentedly, shielding my eyes from the setting sun. Ginny had been right. I really did need this. We needed this. I'd let Ron fade to the back of my mind, hoping to keep him there for the next week. To keep all my problems from overpowering this perfect vacation. I doubt it would work but I was at least going to try.

Fleur slammed the back door, Dominique's little bare feet sounding across the deck as she dashed down the beach to join Rose by the ocean.

I heard Fleur sit down delicately beside me, her pearly whites flashing in the light.

"It is wonderful of you to come out here," She said staring out at our daughters. "It's been awhile since Bill and I have had any adult company."

Her accent had become less thick over the years.

I leaned across the chair, picking up my glass of ice tea, taking a savoury sip. "Thank you for letting us visit. I really appreciate it. Rose and I have been in need of some time alone together."

She waved a dismissive hand. "You are always welcome, 'Ermione."

We sat for hours watching the girls play in the sand, talking back and forth over the least important things possible. I knew Fleur had heard about Ron and I, of all the problems that have been going through my life, but she kept the topic light.

The Weasley's had never been completely fond of the Delacour woman, neither had I for that matter, but sitting here beside her, it finally donned on me that, she was a very complex and intellectual person. It was quite a surprise, one that left me speechless.

I'd had my doubts of coming here, only because I knew the company wouldn't be able to hold a conversation for very long, but she changed my views completely. It made me feel slightly guilty, having the urge to apologize but I blew it off, content to just enjoy my time here.

And that was exactly what I did. I enjoyed the sun on my face, the giggles that emanated from my daughters mouth, the sand between my toes. Only because I knew that after this week was over, this sweet wonderland would be left as only memory, taking me back to the ominous world of reality.

When the sun fell down behind the horizon, Fleur and I rounded up the girls, taking our time bringing them in, making dinner and putting them to bed.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching Rose's sleeping form, with my arms crossed across my stomach. I had a feeling that no matter how enchanting this vacation was for us, the nights were going to drag the problems back to the front of my brain.

Insomnia was going to become a constant part of this vacation.

I tiptoed through the quiet house, making my way back down to the beach. The air hit my face like a slap in the face. I took my wand out, casting a quick Warming Charm, and sat down in the sand. I'd adored nights like this, when I'd been younger; when the clouds had retreated, the stars sprinkling across the navy universe like frosty freckles.

I lay back, staring up at the sky, letting my fingers absently skim the sand beside my body. The moon shined down on me and I wondered, as I've wondered countless times if I had been right to question the killer. Was Greyback the real killer or was he still out there, waiting until the next full moon to murder his next victim?

I hated not knowing.

Cuffe's face flashed before my mind and I groaned. Maybe Harry had been right. Maybe Cuffe was just an innocent bystander. Maybe I had been too hard on her. Maybe I had just wished for an easy way to get rid of her. But maybe wasn't going to get me anywhere. I needed a straight answer. I needed to know what I was doing.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I dug it out, looking at the screen. Ron's number flashed before me. I was tempted to answer it, just to hear his voice. There was nothing to say though. We'd said our peace.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes away from my phone, even though it had long gone silent. The tell-tale tears had already started streaking down my cheeks. I brushed them away angrily. He'd shaken me, torn me apart. He'd said he'd loved me, but if you love someone, you shouldn't cause them this much grief.

He'd taken the last of me.

I stood up before I could stop myself, pulled my arm back and threw my phone out into the ocean. I watched it fly across the navy blue sky feeling a weight lift from my chest. I was so going to regret that later, but for now, I nodded at the satisfactory splash and made my way back up to the cottage.


	6. Anger

**_Bleed Red_**

_Two Days Later_

The room was dark as usual; the lights off. Fenrir Greyback lay on the cot, staring up at the dark ceiling. That Spleen bloke was getting on his last nerve, asking him stupid questions like were you abused as a child? What the bloody hell was he thinking?

It didn't matter though. All things would end today. After all that was the plan.

The Auror came in a suit. Greyback sneered behind the bars.

"You have a visitor," he said.

"Oh, goody," Greyback replied.

The Auror signed Spleen's clipboard, and opened the door. "Follow me," he said to Greyback, not even paying attention to the loosened handcuffs. He followed the Auror, almost giddy with excitement.

The hall was empty just as planned. The little brat had done well. Greyback had uneasy feelings about him, but all was a waste.

"Sort of surprised you have visitors," he said. "I mean who would want to see your ugly arse?"

"Is that the best you got?" Greyback asked.

The Auror turned around, glaring at his prisoner. "They say you're insane, you know."

Greyback leaned in close to him. "That's because I am." He snapped his teeth at the man and laughed as he jumped back, terrified. "Scared?"

The Auror pulled his wand and pushed Greyback against the wall, slamming his head against the concrete wall. "I can throw you right back in that cell, you mongrel. He'll I'd enjoy it."

His mouth was watery; He was practically drooling with anxiousness. He could taste the warm rush of this idiot's life running down his throat; feel that meaty flesh give under his teeth.

"Do it," Greyback goaded him.

"Oh, I will."

He started to pull Greyback by the collar, then, "I think that's against the law, officer."

The Auror turned, letting go of his collar. "You're not allowed back here. Get out of here!"

The intruder smirked. "Oh, don't worry this will take just a minute."

The Auror was blocking Greyback's view, but he knew when the intruder started to change. He could the disturbing sounds of bones cracking, flesh tearing, then the Auror was screaming and pushing him back, running down the hall.

Greyback cackled. The intruder was gone and in his place stood a white wolf, teeth bared in a smile. Greyback snarled in return, already feeling the burning run through his veins as he began to change. He could smell the fear of the Auror in the air. It smelled so good. So delicious. He couldn't wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry's POV<strong>

Barnabas Cuffe called at six-thirty Saturday morning. Ginny was buried deep under the blankets and did not respond to the phone. I rolled over toward the wall and grappled with the lamp until I found the receiver. "Hello," I managed weakly.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I'm sorry to bother you this early on a Saturday, but there is something I need to talk to you about. Have you read the paper this morning?"

"What time is it?"

"Go get the paper and call me after you read it."

The phone was dead. I stared at the receiver, then placed it on the table. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed the fog from my eyes, and tried to remember the last time the editor of the Daily Prophet had called me.

I made the coffee and walked quickly in my gym shorts and sweatshirt to the edge of the street where the three morning papers had fallen within ten inches of each other. I rolled the rubber bands off onto the kitchen table and spread the papers next to my coffee. Nothing from the Quibbler. Nothing from Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions catalog, thank Merlin. The Daily Prophet carried a headline of the Hogwarts Tribute, speeches by the heroes of the WW2, and, then, I saw it. On the bottom half of the front page I saw Fenrir Greyback, and under his picture was the caption: **"Massacre in St. Mungos-7 Dead." **

I stared at Greyback's picture as he snarled out of the paper. Surely it was a mistake. Greyback had been confined, there was absolutely no way he could have gotten out.

"Unless…" I breathed as I scanned the column, calling Barnabas back.

He had a few words of comfort, but nothing could quench the anger slowly raging through me. I should have been the first to know this.

As I was silently putting on my uniform, cradling the phone against my shoulder, the final blow hit.

"And guess who was the last person to sign in to see Greyback." Barnabas said.

"Just tell me." I snarled as quietly as I could. I glanced over at the bed; Ginny was still lost somewhere deep in the bed. She didn't need to know about this yet.

"Draco Malfoy." He stated.

I stopped zipping my trousers. "What?"

"Draco Malfoy was the last-"

"I heard you."

"Then why did you-"

"It doesn't matter, I've got to get going. Thank you." I hung up the phone, silently putting it back on the table.

I pushed my way through the swarming horde of journalists, ignoring their questions with ease. The news of Greyback's break out hadn't escaped the reporter's attention, and every Ministry official was clearly agitated, if not fearful of having a 'serial killer' on the loose once again.

"_What are you going to do now that Greyback is loose once again?"_

"_How could Greyback escape his confinement when Aurors of your choice were guarding him?_

When I was finally able to push my way through the reporters and reach my department, Ron and Cuffe were waiting by my office. They were in a heated discussion, inches away from each other. I stopped in my tracks, arching an eyebrow. Odd.

Tracey Davis, my new secretary, stood up from her desk and nodded in greeting. Her face was thinned out in aggravation. Probably from all the memos circling her head.

"Mr. Potter," She said. Ron and Cuffe both stopped their argument and turned to look at me, guilty expression across their faces. "Barnabas Cuffe is waiting is in your office. The Minister is requesting your presence at the press conference in an hour."

"Alright."

Ron and Cuffe followed me into my office, both collapsing into exhausted heaps on the opposite side of the desk. I perched on the edge of the desk, throwing the paper down in front of them. They both stared at it, apprehensively.

"How did this happen?" I asked.

Ron shook his head. "I don't know, mate."

I took my glasses off, cleaning them against my robe. "It doesn't matter now. I need you two to go down there and help out. Find any evidence; bring it back to me."

They both nodded, standing up quickly.

"What are you going to do?" Ron asked.

I coughed a laugh. "Figure out what to say to those reporters."

* * *

><p>An hour later Kingsley Shacklebolt and I stood in front of the raucous crowd. Cameras were exploding everywhere. Reporters shouting questions left and right.<p>

"Bloody hell," Kingsley said softly, but with feeling.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. I forced myself to breathe slow and even, but the press of people around the podium was claustrophobic. Finally the Aurors and Kingsley's bodyguards appeared in the crowd of press. They began to push them back, an inch at a time.

Kingsley and I stared at each other, then I moved closer to the crowd, putting my wand to my throat, and whispered, "_Sonorus."_

I was blinded by the flashes for a moment, clutching the podium for balance.

"Everyone, please, quiet down." I said, my voice magnifying through the hall. I waited for a little lull in the murmurous noise, then said as clearly as possible, "Now, I know you all want answers, but I am just as dumbfounded as you all. We are doing our best to deal with this new tragedy. Even as we speak here today, our best Aurors are out on this case, trying to catch our escapee. We will not be having any questions today, due to the promptness of this new development. When there is more news, we will gladly inform you all. Thank you."

Another kind of feeding frenzy began. It was simply out of our control, like some force of nature. The reporters started yelling answers to each other's questions, as if they were questions for us, but the answers they were giving were actually drowning out ours. It was one of the most bizarre experiences. It was a hurricane of rumors, and there was no stopping it.

Augustine Anderson, unfortunately, my bodyguard of the day, appeared with the rest of the Aurors. They got Kingsley and I out of the press, and into our respective departments.

I leaned against the wall, rubbing the sweat from my forehead away with the back of my hand. Tracey knocked on the door, saying Ron had left a message for me saying to call immediately. I thanked her, going for my desk and punching in his number.

He answered on the first ring. "Harry, got some good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?"

"Good news, I can't handle any more bad news right now."

"Conference went that bad, eh?"

"You could say that."

"Alright, well we found out where Malfoy is. Bloody wanker is at staying at some pub out of Hampstead. He's supposed to be in the States on business, or so his wife says. I've got Chuck and Merry escorting him to the Ministry."

"Great…" I said, feeling slightly better. "What's the bad news?"

"Call just came in. There's been another murder."

I sighed. Good feeling suddenly gone, overpowered by the hollow feeling of dread. "Gimme the address." I said dejectedly.

He gave me the address and I disapparated.

* * *

><p>The body lay in a broken heap in an alley behind the deli she worked at, as if when they dumped the body, they'd brought her home. The last body dump had been isolated, hidden away in a softball field. But that one had been slaughter compared to this.<p>

The woman's neck was at an angle so sharp that I could see spine poking against the skin of the neck, not quite through the skin, but close. The neck was ugly and wrong, but that was nothing compared to what he, or hell, I didn't even know who could stomach what had happened to the poor woman.

The bare chest was sliced and diced. No one would convince me that this was done by magic. I knew claw marks when I saw it.

"Any traces?" I asked Cuffe. "Or is it just an animal?"

"No trace, but it's certainly not a normal animal. But I'm pretty sure you already know that."

I ran my shaking hand over my face, making myself look down at the body. No matter how much I didn't want to stare at it, she deserved at least some respect. "As much as I wish it was just an animal, I know it's not."

"I didn't plan on looking at bodies today, you know." Cuffe grumbled from the ground.

I laughed. "Neither did I. I was planning on spending my day off with my wife."

"Sorry." She said sincerely.

"It's alright. Just get this done, so we can all leave. I've still got a Malfoy to interrogate."

Ron came up beside me. He took a sharp breath in, eyes wide enough to show white and walked a little down the alley. I forced myself to stand my ground, and tried not to smell anything. The alley didn't smell that good to begin with, but the dead always subjugate everything else.

I swallowed hard and let myself look at the people around me instead of the body. I had to keeping thinking of it, really hard, as the body, because as Hermione says, 'to humanize a victim is to attach yourself to them.' It wouldn't help me solve this crime to think about what this woman had gone through. But, I knew, a small part of me would be beating myself up the next couple of weeks because as impossible as it was, I knew I could have stopped this.

Anderson stood there, a little ways behind me, staring down at the body, with a look on his face that I could only describe as lost. His hand had disappeared into his pocket, as soon as we arrived. This wasn't his first crime scene but he was acting as if it was one.

"We're going to have to re-open the case, Harry. You know this is our serial killer. As much as I wish it was Greyback, she was killed before he broke out." Cuffe said. She looked up at me, her elbows on her knees, black hair falling into her eyes.

I rubbed the back of my neck, my hand sticky from the sweat rolling down my scalp.

"I'm already convinced, you don't have to try to persuade me," I mumbled.

"The thing that I find interesting though, is that on every body that has been found the past couple of months have the same claw marks along the hip." Cuffe traced her gloved hand over the body's bare hipbone where three glistening bloody scratches ran from one hipbone to the other. "It's almost as if he's marking his territory."

"Natural wolves mark their kills after every hunt." Anderson finally spoke in a voice that was cool as ice. "Mind you, they only rub their muzzles against their kill rather than causing it more harm, as in this case. But the principle is still the same. Wolves mark their territory to warn off other predators, as if to simple say 'this is mine.'"

"Are you saying that the killer is warning off other werewolves?" I asked.

He shrugged. "It's likely. It could be any sort of species, human or nonhuman that they see as a threat. But seeing as we believe this particular killer is a werewolf, then yes, that is the most probable answer I have at the moment, but I wouldn't bet mine, or anyone's life on it."

"Or he's become so comfortable in his killing spree, he's starting to sign his kills," Cuffe offered after a tension-filled pause.

I shook my head. "We can't know until we have more evidence. We'll have to check the photos from the previous scenes."

"Either way it could be he's impersonating the wolves or he's leaving his signature."

"The others were cut to pieces; this one only suffered a broken neck." I said.

"Maybe they took pity on her." Ron said.

He'd walked back to join us at the body.

We all looked at him.

He nodded towards the body. "Maybe they put her out of her misery."

"Or maybe they got tired of her screaming," Cuffe said.

We looked at her then. I think anything was better than looking at the body. Cuffe glared up at Ron. Ron glared back. They glared at each other for a long moment. I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. It was one of those unreadable moments that you can simply feel the tension and unspoken things thick in the air, and you suddenly feel like a voyeur in someone else's life.

"Or maybe she passed out from the pain, and it wasn't fun anymore," Anderson said, oblivious to the spiked tension beside us.

Cuffe just shook her head, lips in a line so thin that her mouth was almost invisible in her face. She shot another dirty look at Ron, then looked back down at the body.

"You don't pass out from this," She said, her face sobering. "You don't sleep. You don't rest. You don't do anything but hurt unless they put you under a spell, and even then, sometimes the pain overrides it."

"You talk like you know," I said.

"I had a friend that was attacked by a werewolf." She looked away so that she wasn't looking at any of us. Whatever expression was on her face, she wanted to keep to herself.

Ron looked down at her, his face softening, eyes filling with guilt. "What happened?" He asked, voice equally soft, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"He died," She snapped, shrugging his hand off.

She threw her gloves into the dumpster beside the back of the deli and disparrated with an angry _POP!_ All three of us stared at the place she had been, then Ron walked away. This time he walked further, pushing his way through the crowd of uniforms until he found a piece of alley to lean against. It put him closer to the reporters that had followed us. They started shouting out question when they recognized who he was. He ignored them all, just closing his eyes and leaning back. Whatever he was seeing, or trying not to see cut out anything they could shout at him.

"Was she right," Anderson asked me, "you never stop screaming or pass out?

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I've never been attacked by a werewolf."

He stared at me, frowning. "Even back during the war, you were never attacked?"

I shook my head. "Not by a werewolf, no."

We stood in silence for a moment, listening to the reporters shout off questions to anyone in a uniform.

"We should get the EMTs to get this cleaned up," I said.

Anderson nodded, "I'll get on it and then I'll go and get the files if you don't need me anymore."

I glanced over at the reporters for a moment, slightly nervous. "No, I can handle it."

He nodded again, then left me with the body. I wasn't alone long. Ron came up behind me, looking down at the body with a glazed expression.

"What was that all about, Ron?" I asked him, knowing he'd understand what I was talking about.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"It was certainly something. Why was Cuffe mad at you?"

He let out an exasperated breath. "Hell if I know. Women are crazy."

The EMTs and every other official member who had been summoned to the scene, were making their way towards us. Ron started walking, and I fell in step beside him. We went past the body, and as if we'd agreed, we didn't look at it much. We just walked until the alley was a little darker without the lights they'd set up at the far end.

Though what got me to stop was the smell was less sour here, and a few more feet and we'd run into another group of Aurors holding the other end of the alley.

"We're going to have to tell Hermione about this." He said after a handful of moments.

I nodded. "When she gets back, we'll tell her."

"They could go after her, Harry."

I nodded again. "They could go after us, too. She knows how to take care of herself."

"You think she'll ever forgive me?" He asked suddenly.

I shrugged, not wanting to go down this path with him again. He was my best mate, but so was she. I couldn't choose I side, even though I knew Ron had been in the wrong. "I don't know. You need to give her some space though. You're smothering her."

He frowned. "I've been thinking about that a lot. Maybe I should just give up."

"Don't say that. She loves you. It may take a while but everything will be alright in the end."

He frowned harder, making creases between his eyes. "But does she love me enough?"

I didn't ask what he meant. Enough for what? Enough to forgive him? Enough to take him back? This had been an on-going battle between our families. It wasn't only affecting them but everyone around them. I didn't even think they knew how selfish they were being, not that Ginny and I would tell them. We could never hurt them like that.

So instead of asking what he meant, I simply said, "Of course she does-" My phone rang. I grabbed it out of my pocket. "Harry." I said.

Ginny was on the other line. She screamed incoherently into my ear. When she finally calmed down enough to speak, she said three words. "They took James."

I dropped the phone, not noticing it break into tiny pieces against the asphalt. Ron watched me with a bated breath.

"What happened?" He asked.

I yelled to the Aurors on the other side of the alley and they came running. Grabbing Ron's arm I said before we disaparated, "Someone took my son."

* * *

><p>Ginny was even more hysterical by the time we made it to the house. Half of the Auror department was at my back, but it still didn't feel like enough. My pulse was beating so frantically against my throat, I couldn't breathe. I ran into my house, leaving whatever damage for the Aurors to inspect.<p>

"Ginny!" I called out frantically.

She came out of James' bedroom, her hands clutching a red jumper to her chest. Tears streaked her blotchy face. She didn't say anything when she saw me, just clutched that jumper as if it was the only solid thing left.

I was next to her in seconds, grabbing her and holding her tightly against me, but she was unmoving, stiff.

"Gin," I whispered into her hair, "it's okay."

She shook her head and pushed me away. "No."

My foot slipped on something and we both went down. She tightened her grip on the jumper and I suddenly realized it wasn't red, but soaked in blood. Puddles led from the bedroom into the corridor where we sat.

The world started spinning and I closed my eyes. This wasn't real. I had to be dreaming. Yeah, that was it. I was going to wake up and none of this would have happened. It was just a regular Saturday.

When I opened my eyes, Anderson and Ron were kneeling beside us. Anderson was trying to take away the jumper and put it in a bag for evidence but Ginny wouldn't let him. She was practically seething, eyes watering freely.

I shook my head at him silently and he retreated.

"Get her out of here, Ron." My voice didn't sound like me; Weak, empty.

Ginny glanced at me with red-rimmed eyes.

I helped her stand and wrapped my arms around her, not caring that the jumper was pinned between our bodies. She whimpered against my chest, the first sound she'd made since I arrived, but she was still stiff and unyielding.

"I love you," I whispered against her hair.

I put my hands on either side of her face and made her look me in the eye. "This wasn't your fault. We will get through this, I promise." I put a soft kiss at the end of the sentence.

I could taste her salty tears against her lips. She wrapped her arms around my waist, the jumper falling into a bloody heap between us and pulled me closer.

She closed her eyes and took a breath, exhaling a soft sigh. "I know we will."

* * *

><p>After an hour of questions and damage repair, my flat was back to normal. It didn't feel normal though. The dead silence was going to haunt me until I found my son. I tried not to think about it, but it was there. He was there. His face. His smile. He had Ginny's smile. That quirky, mischievous smile I'd loved for years and now he was gone.<p>

I slammed my fist against the wall of the interrogation room I was in, tears burning in my eyes. Ron put a hand on my shoulder.

"Mate, calm down," He said.

I put my palms flat against the wall, putting my forehead against it. I resisted the urge to bash my head until I was unconscious. At least then I wouldn't be seeing James and Ginny's faces flashing before my eyes.

"Why is this happening?" I mumbled more to myself than anyone.

"I don't know. But they're bringing Malfoy in right now. You need to get yourself together."

I nodded and turned to little table, collapsing into the hard-backed chair.

A second later, Malfoy was escorted in by Chuck and Merry. Merry was short by many standard, but she had more muscle than most of the Aurors in the department and she was wickedly scary at charms. Chuck was the stereotypical muscle man. He reminded me slightly of Vincent Crabbe. Maybe that was why Ron had sent him instead of Simon, Merry's regular partner.

They pushed Malfoy into the chair opposite me and left, closing the door silently behind them. He'd changed over the years. His once gelled back hair was now cut short on the side and long on the top so it'd fall into his eyes. And his eyes were almost frightening. Not because he was shooting me a look to kill but because they were almost inhuman. They were the palest blue I'd ever seen, almost an icy blue.

"Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?" He asked at last. His voice dripped with hostility.

"Just thought I'd let you stew for a moment," Ron said, equally hostile. He was leaning against the far wall.

I shot a look at him and he quieted. "Sorry for the inconvenience, Malfoy, but you know how it is."

"No," he said, "I don't know how it is. I know that you morons put surveillance on my house, and came and dragged me away. Apparently, I'm a suspect in Greyback's miraculous escape."

Ron reacted to it. I heard his breath catch. I wasn't the only one either. Malfoy saw it. My pulse went up just a notch.

"Who told you that?" Ron asked.

He smirked at us. "So that _is_ why I'm here."

"We didn't say that, Malfoy," I said as politely as possible.

"You didn't have to; he reacted to it." He gave me a look and I suddenly knew this wasn't the same Malfoy who taunted us back at Hogwarts. No, he was much, much worse.

I stared at him and felt a thrill of fear, or adrenaline? Neither would help me right now but fearing him would completely disadvantage us. He could see it too. The inner battle raging inside of me.

I glared at him and decided to not wait for Cuffe to be here.

"Why were you in Hampstead yesterday?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I had an errand to run."

"At a pub?"

"Yes."

"What kind of errand?"

He stared at me, bemused. "The kind of errand that is none of your business."

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, you wanker." Ron snarled.

Malfoy just laughed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. "Go ahead, waste your time to track down my every move. It will take you ages. My job requires me to move around a lot and my clients have conditions that I have to abide by to win them over."

I wanted to glance over at Ron and see what he was thinking, but didn't dare.

"So that was why you were at a pub in Hampstead. You were making a deal with a client?" I asked him.

He nodded. "I'm impressed. I thought it'd take you longer to catch on, Potter."

I ignored the insult, going straight to the next question. "What exactly do you do for a living?"

"I import ancient artefacts throughout the world. I thought you'd have done a background check on me by now. Getting lazy, are we?"

"Dark artefacts?" Ron asked ignoring the jibe, with an arched eyebrow.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "No, you dipshit."

He half-rose from his chair. The manacles kept his hands from rising and kept all of him from standing completely, but I still said, "Sit down, Malfoy, you're not going anywhere."

He gave a sound that might have been a laugh, but was all bitter. He let himself fall back into the chair. "This is bullshit. I haven't done anything."

"Why were you at St. Mungo's last night?" I asked him, resting my elbows on the table.

He was silent for a moment, his face closing down and I knew I'd got him. He was going to lie. It would have just been easier to slip him some veritaserum, but as of last year, it had been banned from interrogation rooms, violating a person's rights. If only they had banned it back in Hogwarts, then maybe that evil wench Umbridge wouldn't have been able to use it on me. No, she still would have done it if it tickled her fancy.

"Greyback is an old family friend. I visit him every once in a while. This was the first time I went to see him at St. Mungo's."

"Rather coincidental, don't you think? You visit him and then he breaks out."

He shrugged. "Yes, it seems I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That is complete bullshit, you lying ferret." Ron growled. He put his hands behind his back, like he was scared if he had them in front of him, he'd strangle Malfoy where he sat.

"Maybe, but you can't prove otherwise."

"Not yet." Ron and I said simultaneously.

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, completely at ease. We all stared at each other, sizing each other up, then he said suddenly, "I heard your son was kidnapped, Potter. What a pity." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I was suddenly up, out of my chair. "You son of a bitch! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO WITH MY SON!"

He just smirked up at me, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "You want to hit me don't you, Potter? You're so angry, aren't you? So angry you could kill something." His voice had turned into a growl. "It feels good, doesn't it? That anger swelling up inside your chest like fire. It feels so good it hurts."

I kept my hands flat on the table and glared at him.

Malfoy slowly stood up, leaning closer to me and whispered, "Come on, hit me. Take that angry out on me. I know you want to."

I pushed away from the table and practically ran to the door.

"Harry," Ron called out.

"I just need some air," I mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear me.

I fumbled for the buzzer. I heard it sound. Nothing happened. Someone had to let us out. Until this moment, I'd been okay. I took a deep breath, glaring at the wall.

My pulse was thudding in my throat, but the anger was slowly melting away. I took another deep breath and I was calmer.

Malfoy called behind me, "It's only a matter of time, before that anger gets the better of you, Potter. If you don't let it out, it'll eat you alive."

I glanced back at him, seeing him calm and content, even shackled to a table. He smirked at me, his face full of laughter.

I hit the buzzer again. The door clicked and I swung it open. When the door closed, I collapsed against it, letting out a sigh of relief.

I don't know what had bothered me more; The fact there was something seriously wrong with Malfoy or the fact that I agreed with everything he'd said.


End file.
